What's Inside
by alyssssab
Summary: Jenna thought leaving Earl would solve all her problems. Now, two months into motherhood, she finds it hard to even care for herself on any given day, much less for her newborn. Things like returning to work, or finding a place to live seem like pipe-dreams, not possibilities. How will Jenna continue, when it seems every day like the world is ending? AU/alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Trigger Warning: This is the only trigger warning you will get for the entire story. There are mental health issues, suicidal ideation, violence, and sexual content. At a future point, the rating will go up to M, so if you'd like to keep track of it, you should probably follow.**

 **That said, at the time of posting it, it is the only Waitress fanfic on this site (you're welcome for the bugging I had to do with the admin for this). I will include occasional Author's notes addressing any questions from you guys if you post them, but otherwise I'll try to keep them limited as I feel they distract from the story itself. Comments/Favorites are my crack, so please leave as many as you like. Thanks, and enjoy!**

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Lulu's cries were obnoxious, penetrating the still, quiet air of the bedroom. Jenna sat up in her bed, rubbing her head. She had been in that dozing, half-awake state for nearly an hour, unable to sleep but also unable to move. She looked at the crib at the foot of the bed with distaste—why did the baby have to cry all the goddamn time? Lulu's squalling only increased in volume, so Jenna scooched herself towards the foot of the bed and lifted her baby half-heartedly, holding her against her chest and rocking slightly. She remembered in the hospital when this felt like the sun shining on her face; like warmth and peace and happiness. Now it felt like a lumpy, kicking bag of potatoes that was wetting her shirt.

"Jenna, dinner's ready!" Ogie's voice called from down the hallway. Jenna felt her chin wobble as Lulu's tears began to subside. How could she face them? Another day wasted, lying here in her room doing nothing but feeding and changing a baby that wouldn't stop fucking crying anyways. But Ogie had cooked. So she had to. What kind of guest was she, otherwise? Jenna hid her face as she entered the dining room, trying not to bring down the atmosphere with her sadness. She held Lulu gently away from herself, a mix of pain in her overly chapped nipples and type of unexplainable anger that made her want to be nowhere near her own daughter.

Lately, she hadn't been able to keep the tears from coming, or the strange resentment she felt towards Lulu from overpowering her in waves. Ogie and Dawn had her set up in their guest room—which they had graciously cleared of boxes from their move—and never once complained or expected her to begin cooking or doing chores. It had been two months since Lulu was born now, and she had yet to find an apartment, or lift a finger to help them. The guilt ate at her every day as she lay there, struggling to even feed and hold her own child.

Today she had spent a few hours halfheartedly searching apartment listings, trying to be real with herself about her price range and what that meant for her and her baby. It was looking more and more like she was going to have to have cockroaches for roommates or be content with hearing gunshots every night.

Earl had stopped by, as he did every few days. Thankfully, today was a drunk day, so after a few minutes of banging on the door he broke down in tears, lamenting over how Jenna had never really loved him in the first place. It was worse on the sober days, when he would bang on the door for hours, threatening to kill Jenna or hurt Lulu. She was just grateful Dawn and Ogie hadn't been there to be bothered by it; she hated the baggage she brought with her. It was humiliating.

Now, without even knowing why she was so goddamn sad, just the thought of trying to smile and pretend she was ok in front of Dawn and Ogie choked a sob out of Jenna's throat. She tried to stifle it with a cough as she walked into the dining room. Ogie was entirely too perceptive, however, and he looked at her curiously upon hearing the strangled noise that emerged from her throat.

"Oh Jenna, what's wrong?" he asked, his southern drawl pulling on the words. Dawn looked up in alarm and let out a small yelp as she saw Jenna's face.

"Oh hun, give her here!" Dawn held out her little arms and Jenna practically dumped Lulu in them, barely sparing a second thought for supporting her head and neck before stepping back gingerly, wiping frantically at her cheeks to get the tears away. _What was wrong with her?_

"I'm uh, I'm fine. Just hormones, ya know?" Jenna tried to laugh to make it seem like a joke, but she only sobbed more. "I'm sure I'll be fine, I just need a minute." Her quavering, choked voice implied otherwise and she knew it.

"How about you go on a walk? It's been a while since you've had any baby-free time. Go get some fresh air; we'll feed Lulu and save you a plate." Ogie offered, concern written plainly in his features.

"I'm fine, I'll just go splash some water on my face and be right back," Jenna promised.

"Nuh-uh," Dawn piped up, not lifting her eyes from Lulu's little face as she spoke. "You sound exhausted, and you haven't been letting us help at all lately with this one. We've got her. You go take a breather. Seriously. Go." Dawn's voice when she tried to be serious was almost comical. Jenna felt her heart ache, watching Dawn rock and smile at her baby. Why couldn't she do that?

"Ok yeah, I think that might be good," she choked, trying to stifle another sob. She was out the door in seconds, Dawn and Ogie's wide eyes following her progress. She slammed the door shut and stood for a second in shock. Before her tears could seize her completely, she set off, walking nowhere in particular.

What was happening to her? She couldn't get out of bed some days if she wanted to, and the sight of her own baby filled her with loathing, and her self-reliant identity had faded into nothingness, leaving her depending on Dawn and Ogie to keep her alive. Every day she hated herself for it, but opening her laptop itself seemed exhausting, no matter looking at apartments and calculating budgets in her head and comparing it to her pathetically small bank account. Buying out of the lease she had signed with Earl was a nightmare and had left her damn near penniless. She had half-heartedly fought Dawn and Ogie to let her pay rent, but their winning was honestly a relief—at what they were giving her, she could only afford a month or so more before she would be out on the street.

Jenna knew Ogie and Dawn meant she could stay as long as she wanted when they invited her, but she couldn't help but feel like a terrible drain on them, mooching off their food and taking over their guest room and never cooking or cleaning. She spent each day wringing her hands, fearing that when they returned from work they would secretly resent her for still being there, for sitting on her ass all day while they functioned in the real world. Jenna had also started keeping herself up at nights, not wanting Lulu's cries to disturb them—they were kind about saying they didn't mind, but each time Jenna would watch them yawn or see the circles under their eyes after a particularly bad night, the guilt would drive deeper into her like a knife. Instead, she would sit in her bed, staring through the dark at Lulu's crib, rocking herself gently in this coma-like state of awareness. Each time Lulu roused, she would feed her and lay her back down, then return to her sentry's post. She couldn't recall the last time she'd gotten more than an hour or two of sleep in a night.

Earl only made things worse. Each time he showed up was a mix of terror and guilt and shame for Jenna as he would berate her through the door. Dawn and Ogie had only been there a few times for it, and she had stopped telling them about it after the second time he came—if they knew he was there so often, they'd worry or want her to go to the police.

They were trying to do something kind to help her get back on her feet and she was taking advantage of them and languishing, struggling so hard with caring for her own child, something that should be instinctual.

On the bedside table in her room, the pink envelope from Joe sat collecting dust. Jenna had no idea what to do with the money he had left her. It sat in a special account, not touching her own meager funds, taunting her. She still didn't consider it her own—it's presence did nothing to alleviate her financial concerns. It wouldn't last, after all, if she continued like this, surviving instead of rejoining the real world. Spending her days trapped inside a ten by ten prison, having Lulu suck on her like a parasite and stink up diapers. Jenna's tears intensified again as she walked, just thinking about changing another diaper. Why should caring for her own baby sound so revolting to her? The tears came again, rolling down her cheeks and choking her.

She walked like that, the guilt and pain and shame and confusion of it all just wracking her body, ricocheting around in her mind and blinding her. Eventually, with her head throbbing and her body practically shaking, she had to stop, bent at the waist, trying to gather breath. After a minute, when her head stopped spinning, she stood up to take stock of where she was.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, and Jenna did a double take when she saw the sign in front of her: Stanton Grove. Had she really walked that far? She checked the watch on her wrist and did another double-take: it had been an hour and a half. She had completely lost track of time, and just dumped Lulu on Dawn and Ogie without even asking, probably ruining their entire dinner. She reached to her back pocket for the little cell phone she'd gotten recently and felt her hand cup her ass before realizing she'd left it at home. With her wallet.

Jenna began pacing on the sidewalk. _What an idiot_. She had no money, no phone, and no idea how she had walked so far in her stupor. Dawn and Ogie had no idea where she was and were just left with Lulu. They had let her stay with them, not signed up to be baby-sitters for her.

With the sun going down around her, she knew it wouldn't be safe to try and find her way back home in the dark. Across the street, Jenna saw a bus stop sign mounted on a light pole. Maybe if she begged the bus driver and explained her situation, she could get a ride home for free and pay later. Maybe. If not, she was screwed.

Checking both ways quickly, Jenna walked across the street and plopped herself down on the little bench under the street lamp. The exhaustion hit her like a brick wall and she slumped in her seat, still shaking gently. She didn't understand how she could go from feeling so sad to so utterly. . .empty.

The chill of nightfall hit her quickly in her ratty old t-shirt and jeans, and she wrapped her arms around herself as her shakes turned to shivers. She had never taken this bus line from this far out, and she had no idea what time to expect the bus. Maybe it was too late at night, and one wasn't going to come anyways, leaving her stranded and alone. She didn't know what she would do if one didn't come. The idea of being left in the middle of nowhere caused her to blanch.

She could picture the headline: _Single Mother Found off Highway 128, Stabbed 17 Times, Leaves Behind Two Month Old_. To be honest, Lulu would be lucky if she died. Maybe Dawn and Ogie would take her in and Ogie's tax-auditing money would send her to school with new clothes and toys. Maybe she'd get put in the system and a rich family would adopt her and take care of her, maybe even send her to private school. Anything would be better than being trapped with a dead-beat mom like her, unable to even return to work, much less find a place for them to live.

Her internal rhetoric began once more, hurling abuse at herself for what she had done to her child. Was Earl really that bad? Asking the question brought the tears back, and Jenna felt herself beginning to snuffle again, hunched over, when she heard footsteps behind her. Quickly, she wiped at her cheeks, trying to compose herself—the people in Stanton Grove were rich, and she didn't want them thinking she was some crazy homeless lady. She would never get on the bus that way. The footsteps stopped off to her right and Jenna fixed her gaze on the concrete sidewalk in front of her, determined not to reveal her tear-stained face to the stranger, to seem sane and normal.

"Jenna?"

 _Oh shit._


	2. Chapter 2

"Jenna, what's wrong?" He knelt in front of her, his body filling her view even as she refused to meet his eyes.

She had been avoiding him so well; switching to another OB/GYN for her post-partum visits and trying to clear her mind—and conscience—of the months during her pregnancy. She had been doing ok too, pretending he had never even existed. And here he was, still smelling of aftershave and deodorant. The smell sent her reeling with nostalgia and longing, which led to more guilt, which led to more tears.

"Jenna? You're scaring me. Should I call someone? An ambulance?" The anxiety in his voice was just so typical.

"No, Jim. I'm fine." She lifted her face and there he was, less than a foot away. His eyes were wide with worry, his too-thin lips pursed. He hadn't shaved for a few days, which she knew was very unlike him, and his hair stuck out from his head all haywire, as though he hadn't combed it that morning. She felt the endorphins rush through her at the sight of him, so near.

"I'm sorry," he stumbled to back away, realizing how close he was. He ended up tipping backwards off the sidewalk, landing on his ass in the street. Jenna couldn't help but smile as she tried to wipe the tears from her face. He shot her a wounded expression as he righted himself and spoke again. "You were just uh, just crying. I didn't know if everything was ok. I mean, clearly it's not, but I was wondering if it was a 'call the authorities' type not ok or a 'leave me the hell alone'– I'm sorry I'll stop talking," he cut off quickly, his voice dropping deep, noticing the emptiness in her face, her lack of response to his rambling.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just fine. Just, waiting for the bus, right?" Jenna looked up at the sign and laughed bitterly. Before she knew it, the laugh had opened whatever inside of her had been holding the tears in, and a sob wracked her body. Jim's eyes widened as he watched her hunch over, holding her mid-section and trying to quell the tears before they could start in earnest. She failed, and they swept her away, making her shake with their force.

Jim stood there, speechless in front of her as Jenna hid her face. She watched his feet as he sidled closer towards the bench and sat next to her, patting her stiffly on the arm. She flinched at his touch and he yanked his hand away quickly.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's just, it's been a while since anybody touched me. God I'm sorry, that sounds pathetic," Jenna guffawed through her tears at her words.

"No, it doesn't. It's uh—it's ok if you'd like to cry on my shoulder. I mean," he hastily corrected, "you can cry, and I'm here, and it doesn't mean anything for us like, romantically or anything. Sometimes, you just need to cry. It's ok."

"I'm fine," Jenna coughed, her voice thick. Jim held his arm out awkwardly and for a moment she sat there, wiping at her eyes with hands that were already wet, contemplating. Then she leaned over, awkwardly. He didn't move his arm, letting her lean on it as she needed. Her sobs came silently, as he slowly began to rub her back, his hand moving in small circles on her shoulder.

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry I've gone and messed your shirt up," she sniffled after a minute, pulling away.

"Shhh," he whispered, pulling her in again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They stayed like that for a little while. Finally, Jenna pulled away, this time more concretely.

"Ok, I'm all cried out now. I'm sorry. You must think I'm psycho or something."

"Quite the contrary, actually." Jim replied. "I'm worried. As a doctor, I mean. How long have you been like this?"

"Like what?" Jenna asked. "You caught me at a bad time. I promise I'm not always like this."

"And where's Lulu?" He asked. Jenna's chin began to wobble. "Ok, never mind, sorry to bring it up, I don't need to know," he backtracked, confusion written all over his face.

"No, no, Jesus, is there anything that doesn't make me cry?" Jenna wiped a single tear away from her cheek with her shirt. Jim didn't answer.

They sat there for a few minutes without speaking, Jenna craning her neck to look down the road. Jim crossed his hands in his lap, tapping his foot, not wanting to intrude on Jenna's thoughts. After the third time she glanced down the road, he spoke up.

"I hate to tell you this now, but the bus doesn't actually run from here after 8pm," Jim glanced at her as he spoke, as if gauging whether or not more tears would be shed by sharing this news.

"Why did you wait this long to tell me?"

"You looked like you were thinking about something."

"Yeah, like how I'd sure like the bus to come!"

"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to interrupt." He looked chagrined as Jenna glared at him. The glare quickly broke down as she realized how screwed she was, stranded out in Stanton Grove with no way home.

"Wait, if there's no buses, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I didn't want to leave you alone."

"Oh."

"Where are you trying to go?"

"Home. I mean, Dawn and Ogie's."

"Oh, well, you're a ways away."

"I gathered that much," Jenna replied sarcastically, looking pointedly at the sign across the street.

"Obviously, I'm sorry, jeez, um, how did you get here?" he asked.

"Oh, I was just going on a walk."

"That's one long walk."

"Yeah," Jenna sighed. "Wait, if there's no busses, why are you here? Like, why did you come here?"

"That's my house up there," Jim pointed to a house on the first little hill in the development, about two hundred yards away. "I saw you sitting here from there and you looked like you needed help."

Of course. He'd seen all her hysterics.

"I'm sorry, I'm being horribly rude. Would you like to come inside? You can use my phone to call somebody, or I could give you a ride home after nine. . ."

"Yeah, actually. That would be nice. The phone call, I mean. I won't trouble you for a ride," Jenna replied.

They walked in silence on the wide sidewalk up the tree-lined boulevard to enter the neighborhood. Jenna had only been there a few times as a kid to attend classmates birthday parties, back when it was the done thing to invite the entire class. Once cliques and friend groups broke out, the poor kids mostly hung out with each other and the Stanton Grove kids stayed among their own—it didn't hurt that most of them also went to the private school in the next town over as well. Now, walking through the neighborhood she hadn't seen in easily over a decade, Jenna felt a wave of nostalgia and regret. How different her life would have been if she had grown up in a place like this—two story homes with two-car garages that seemed to always have a car parked out front anyways. How could one family need so many cars? She had always wondered as a kid.

Jim opened the door to his own house without a key—living in a neighborhood like this, you would think people would want to lock up their things, but clearly safety was no issue. His house was a slate grey color—no car parked outside.

Inside it was dark and felt empty. There was a little entryway with a small shoe rack and coat closet. Jenna noticed as she pulled off her worn sneakers that the only shoes on the rack were men's; perhaps Francine kept hers somewhere else? It seemed a bitter thing to become aware of on your first time visiting your ex-lovers home.

"Would you like some water?" Jim asked, leading her back through the house to the kitchen.

"Sure," Jenna replied, taking in the cozy space in front of her. The kitchen sink had a massive bay window in front of it, through which Jenna realized how he had seen her; from this viewpoint on the hill, the road in front of the development was completely visible, the bus stop especially clear with the spotlight of the street lamp over it. Off to the side—in front of another massive window—a wooden dining table with six chairs sat. Jim flicked a switch and the small lamp hanging above it turned on, casting the space in a warm glow. He slid a full glass of water in front of one of the seats and lifted the landline from it's place on the counter next to the table to put it in front of Jenna as she sat down.

After taking a deep gulp of water, she dialed the familiar number and pressed the receiver to her ear. It picked up after the first ring, and she could picture Dawn snatching the phone up, cradling it against her cheek, her dimples emerging in a perfect picture of worry.

"Jenna? Are you ok? Where are you? This is Jenna, right?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm so sorry Dawn, I just got completely lost."

"We were worried sick, we thought maybe Earl had gotten you or something, and when we rang your phone and realized you had left it here" Dawn's voice edged up with angst. Suddenly, Jim seemed to realize he was eavesdropping and sprung up from his seat next to Jenna, busying himself with something at the sink.

"No no, no Earl or nothing. I just started walking and lost track of time. I'm fine."

"Where are you calling from?"

"Oh uhh, Jim found me. I mean—you remember Dr. Pomatter?"

"Oh. Yeah, I remember him." Her voice was impassive—Dawn had never known about Jenna's affair. It seemed strange now that she didn't know about something that had so fundamentally changed Jenna's life.

"I'm calling from his house. The trouble is, I left my wallet at home with my phone, so I don't have a way to get bus fare back, and the busses don't run out this late either, apparently. Could you send Ogie round to get me? I swear up and down I'm paying you for watching Lulu and doing all this. I owe y'all big time—I won't take no for an answer."

"Oh hun, remember Ogie took his car into the shop today? He doesn't go back for it til tomorrow. I'm so sorry."

Jenna felt her stomach sink. She would have to walk home.

"Oh—ok. Sure. I'll find a way home then. I'll hurry, but if I don't make it in time feel free to give Lulu the milk I pumped earlier, and could you put the lotion on her elbows where the skin is red? And I put extra diapers—"

"We've got her, hun. Just hurry home. Can we call you a taxi?"

"No no, I'm fine. I'll just walk. That's how I got here in the first place."

"Jenna, that sounds dangerous."

"Shh, I'm fine. Kiss Lulu for me. I'll be home soon."

"But—"

Jenna hung up the phone, staring at her half full glass of water.

"You know I won't let you walk home, right?" Jim returned to the table, sliding into the seat across from hers.

"I'll be fine. I sort of remember the way I took, I'll just backtrack."

"It's dark and unsafe and you have no way to call for help. Absolutely not. I can take you home in— "he broke off and checked his wrist watch. "Ten minutes. Just sit tight til then. You never told me earlier how Lulu was."

"She's fine," Jenna replied dismissively. "But why can you only take me home after nine?" Jenna asked, consulting her own watch. "Not that I'm planning on taking you up on that offer."

"Oh, uhh, it's a bit of a long story," Jim replied hesitantly. Just then, Jenna heard the front door open. "Which you are about to find out much sooner than I intended," Jim whispered, looking at his hands nervously. It was only then that Jenna noticed—his left hand had no ring on it. She didn't have the time to ask him what had happened before the smell of perfume—Chanel no. 5—filled the room.

"Ok, I filled up the tank—" Francine walked in confidently, stopping in her tracks at the sight of Jenna. She wore pink scrubs and sneakers, an exhausted look on her face, her hair in a messy pony. Her eyes tracked up and down Jenna's entire body, taking her in. Then they swung over to Jim, examining his damp shirt and mussed hair and settling on his eyes, now intently focused on the tabletop in front of him. Then she swung her gaze back to Jenna. "Oh. You. Jenna, right?"

Jenna stood, not knowing if this woman was a threat or not but not wanting to face it sitting. "Yeah. That's me."

Francine smiled, but her eyes were empty of happiness.

"See, I thought the first time I saw you, I would scream at you and hate you and maybe even hit you. I was so mad, you know, when I figured it all out. I just never thought that would be me, you know? But I guess it makes sense. He always liked charity cases." She laughed then, an empty, arching, cruel laugh. Jenna didn't know what to say.

"Here are the keys, Jim." Francine dropped them on the table where they clattered loudly. "I'm just going to pack some things quickly until my sister gets here. Try not to fuck her while I'm upstairs, ok?" She turned and whirled out of the room before Jim or Jenna could respond. Jenna slumped back down into her seat, her mouth open in a wide oh. Jim just kept looking at his hands, the same look of defeat owning his features.


	3. Chapter 3

"What the fuck?" Was all Jenna could muster. Francine's perfume seemed to swirl in the air around her, muddling her thoughts.

"How about I take you home now?" Jim hedged, picking the keys up from the table and twirling them on his finger. His eyes pleaded with her to not pursue the question—not here, at least. Reluctantly, she gave in.

"Ok. But you're letting me grab gas money for you when we get there."

"You know I'm not going to let you do that. Now let's go. Quickly." He couldn't seem to get out of the house fast enough. Jenna followed, glad to be clear of the waves of hatred she could feel radiating off Francine, even seemingly through the floorboards.

A blue pathfinder sat in the driveway, still clicking and cooling down. Jim went around to the passenger side and opened Jenna's door for her, closing it gently before walking around to open his own. Of course he would be the type of guy to do that—a perfect gentleman.

He adjusted his seat in the silent car, pushing it way back so his knees weren't pressed up against the wheel. It wasn't until after he had started the engine and began backing out that Jenna opened her mouth.

"What happened?"

Jim focused on the back-up camera, getting them out of the driveway before responding.

"Well, we're getting divorced. If you couldn't tell. Where do you live? I mean, where are you staying?"

"Quail Hill. You know where that is? Down two exits on the 128, I can direct you from there." Jenna's voice belied her patience; she wanted answers.

"Ok, I can do that," Jim replied. He fell silent, tapping the wheel nervously.

"Jim?"

"I know. I want the right words. I don't know what they are right now. I can't—you know I'm not good with words."

"Go ahead and give it a shot with the wrong words. I'll try my best to follow."

"Ok well, we're getting divorced. I already said that. I'm guessing you want to know how she knows about you?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Well, it started when I asked for the divorce. I uhh-well, never mind. After I told her I wanted one—a divorce, I mean—she started poking around." He cleared his throat nervously. "It was a nurse. One of the nursing students, I mean. Did a rotation at my practice, then in neonatal with Francine. Felt an obligation to clue her in to our frequent visits—didn't claim to know anything, but just shared her suspicion. When she asked me about it I couldn't lie, I guess. I just confessed. We were already getting the divorce anyways, so at that point it was a done deal. I never wanted to bring you into it, though."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"She hasn't called you or anything, right? She didn't show up at the diner?"

"No of course not, that was the first time I've seen her since I gave birth. But why didn't you tell me you were getting divorced?"

"Why didn't I tell you? Well, you dumped me, remember?"

"I know but—"

"And you changed practices, to Dr. Goldstein's, which I would honestly advise against because he's a terrible doctor, not that you should continue seeing me, obviously, but honestly just not seeing him would be best—"

"Jim."

"Sorry."

"You should have told me."

"No. I mean, that wouldn't be kind," he backtracked. "You ended. . . whatever it was we had, and you ended your marriage in that hospital, and I could see how hard that was for you, and how dedicated you were to making a fresh start. I never wanted to make your life harder. Isn't that what you said when you ended it? That it would be best to avoid messiness? Well this messiness is mine. So it's my own to deal with. In fact, I would say you've been dealing with more than your fair share of messiness already."

"Well, I brought that on myself," Jenna chuckled. "Leaving my husband with a newborn probably wasn't the best idea."

"I didn't mean leaving him, Jenna."

"Then what did you mean?"

"The crying you were doing at the bus stop, and the look in your eyes now. How long have you been like this?"

"I'm fine, Jim." Jenna's voice carried a tone of warning. "I can handle it."

"You got worse when I asked about Lulu. You look exhausted. Have you thought of hurting yourself? Or her?"

"Dr. Pomatter!"

"I don't mean to pry, but it could be—"

"Stop it. I'm fine," Jenna declared. "Take this exit and then turn left off the ramp."

"You should make an appointment with an OB who knows what they're doing. Not me, of course, but somebody else at my practice Dr. Laughlin is amazing, she can help you."

"Would you leave it alone already?" Jenna was surprised at the amount of anger in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just tell me when to turn."

"The next right, then the first right, then it's a block down on the left."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they pulled up outside of Dawn and Ogie's house, Jenna turned to face him.

"Stop worrying about me. Please. And—" she paused, looking at his eyes, deep-set and sad in a way she didn't remember them ever being. "Please take care of yourself. Please."

"Funny how you ask me to take care of myself when you refuse to do the same."

"It's different."

"How?" he asked. He truly meant it too—it wasn't just a retort.

"I have Lulu to take care of. She comes first now."

"Lulu is important, but so are you. Don't forget that."

"Goodbye, Dr. Pomatter."

She slammed the door behind her and walked up the driveway slowly, sore from the long walk and hard cry. When she got to the front door she turned and looked back at the car still idling on the road. He was staring at her, his gaze intense and so sad. She lingered for a moment, some part of her not wanting to leave him like that, so defenseless and alone, to return to the cold house in Stanton Grove. Then Dawn opened the door and the spell was broken—he drove off and she stepped inside, right into Dawn's outstretched arms.

"What happened?" Dawns eyes were wide with concern. Jenna felt the guilt rise in her again—she hadn't noticed it fade, but somehow being with Jim had calmed her down.

"I just got so lost in my thoughts, and when I stopped and looked around I had no idea how I'd gotten to where I was. I was lucky Dr. Pomatter was there—if he hadn't been I honestly don't know what I would've done. I'm so sorry that I left you with the baby though; where is she?"

"She's just asleep in her crib now. We found the baby monitor in the box in your room—why haven't you used that yet? We put some batteries in it and have it all set up, so we've just been resting and watching history channel."

"Oh good. Let me go get some money for you guys—"

"Jenna, could you stop that please?"

"Stop what?"

"We want to help! With Lulu! You always take the weight of the world on your shoulders and right now it's just too damn much. Let us watch Lulu for a while each day so you can eat and sleep and shower and take care of yourself!"

"Dawn's right," Ogie chimed in. Jenna hadn't noticed him emerge from the living room. "We'd love to spend some time with little Lulu. After all, if we're gonna have one of our own someday, a little practice now would help bunches."

"I couldn't ask that of you two—you both work full time, I'm the one sitting here all day with nothing to do."

"I won't hear of that!" Ogie retorted. "I'm in that office nine to five each day and it practically bores the daylights out of me. Sure, I have my war re-enactments, but that's only every first and third Saturday of the month-I have time every night to watch little Lulu, and I know Dawn feels the same."

"I do," Dawn chimed in. "And Ogie's right—if we're gonna have one of our own, I need all the practice I can get. Not that Lulu's practice or anything, but you can never be too safe, right?" She walked over and threaded her arms around Ogie's waist. He returned the gesture subconsciously, then they both turned and smiled at Jenna. She had to plaster a smile on her face, hiding the stab of jealousy that swirled through her stomach. She wanted to wrap her arms around somebody like that—she shoved images of Jim from her mind.

"Ok ok, we can talk about you guys having a night every now and again with her. That might be nice, actually. But only if you let me start cleaning or something."

Before Dawn or Ogie could respond, Jenna heard her phone ring from where she had left it in the kitchen. She quickly passed Dawn and Ogie in the hallway and picked it up—it was a number she didn't recognize. She pressed the green 'accept' button anyways—almost nobody had this number, so it likely wasn't spam, though she didn't know who would be calling at this time of night.

"This is an automated message from the office of Doctors Pomatter, Laughlin, and Henry, reminding you of your appointment tomorrow at ten o clock. If this time isn't correct or you are unable to make it to your appointment, please call us at—"

Jenna hung up the phone before the message could complete. She hadn't booked that appointment, but she knew who had.

"Who was it?" Dawn asked from the entry to the kitchen.

"It was the doctors office. I think Dr. Pomatter booked me an appointment." Jenna tried to keep her stomach from fluttering—this intrusion should make her angry. And it did. Who did he think he was, just booking her time like that?

"Well that's nice!" Dawn responded. "I never did like that other doctor—say, why did you change anyways? You always seemed so fond of Dr. Pomatter! It'll be good for you to get out. What time is the appointment?"

"Ten in the morning." Jenna responded, half-focused as she tried to figure out her feelings.

"Oh perfect! I'm not working til three—I can watch Miss Lulu and maybe you can take yourself shopping or get a manicure or something. You deserve a little treat!"

"Oh well that's nice, but I'll be fine. I don't think I'll even go—it wasn't quite his place to book me an appointment."

"Nonsense! You've been exhausted lately, and you never did go in for your last appointment with that other doctor—he wasn't very good, was he? You could use a check-up."

"We'll see."

"I've got Lulu," Dawn replied firmly, her voice once again a comical imitation of seriousness. Just then, the tell-tale crackling of a baby monitor went off in the living room. The sound of it sent Jenna's stomach dropping through the floor. Another sleepless night loomed in front of her.

"Speak of the devil!" Dawn smiled cheerfully. Jenna could only half-smile meekly back, dragging her feet back to her room to return to her nightly hell.


	4. Chapter 4

Jenna swung her legs from her seat on the parchment covered table. Nostalgia was overwhelming her—she had had many visits in this room, some better than others—but something was missing. She tried to pinpoint what it was as she sat there, reminiscing over the things she had done upon the very table where she was seated. Like when Jim had held the stirrups and every vein on his arms stood out in fresh relief as she kissed her way down his stomach—

Two knocks on the door shook her from her reverie. The door opened, and Jim entered.

"What are you doing here?" Jenna recoiled.

"I know, I know, this seems crazy." Jim held his hands up in an innocent expression. "I didn't plan on this, but Dr. Laughlin caught a cold and isn't in today, and Dr. Henry and I were going to split her appointments but then he was called out on a birth, so it's just me. I understand if you don't want me—or I mean, to see me, I guess. I can reschedule you. I promise, my feelings won't be hurt." He looked away awkwardly, in that way he did where Jenna couldn't necessarily tell if he was serious or joking.

She felt the corners of her mouth twinge with a half-smile, harkening back to the first time he'd said that. The first time they'd met.

"Oh!" She exclaimed.

"What?" Jim asked in alarm, looking around in fright for what could have caused her reaction.

"I had the strangest feeling when I got here that I forgot something, and I just realized what it is!"

"Was it Lulu? It's normal in the first few months of motherhood to feel like you've forgotten something when you're away from your baby—"

"No!" Jenna interrupted. "A pie! Jeez, I haven't baked one in ages. Not since before Lulu, I guess, now that I'm thinking about it."

"You haven't baked for over two months?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Huh. I didn't even think about it til now."

"Are you not back to work yet either?"

"No. That's just maternity leave though. Probably why I haven't baked either."

"I thought you loved baking."

"Oh I do. But with the move and all that, I've just been so busy. It doesn't really matter anyways. Why did you want to see me? Or I mean, why did you book me for an appointment? I told you I'm fine."

"Well, with that Dr. Goldstein being your OB, you know, you can never be too sure. But back to your baking—you're staying with your friends, right? Do they not have a kitchen? Could you not bake there?"

"Well they do, obviously."

"So why haven't you?"

"You sure seem to care a lot about my pies, huh? Upset I didn't bring you one?" Jenna half-smiled again, poking fun at him. His expression remained serious, however, and she sobered up quickly enough. "I haven't really wanted to bake. I've been so tired with the baby and all that."

"Are you the only one caring for her? I mean, are your friends helping?"

"She's my baby." Jenna replied. "I mean, it's my job to take care of her. Not theirs."

"Well of course you're the primary, but usually a baby has two parents. It's ok to need a little help—parenting wasn't designed to be done alone."

"I'm more than capable, Dr. Pomatter." Jenna's tone edged into anger again.

"I'm not saying you're not, but you seem overly exhausted."

"Are you serious?" Jenna guffawed. "I have a newborn. Of course I'm exhausted."

"Yes, and we would expect that, but your movements and demeanor are, well, how do I say this? We have markers for the typical exhaustion levels we see in new parents and you're well above the threshold. The fact that you've given up baking is also worrisome. And I know you probably don't want me to mention this, but the tears I saw yesterday were deeply concerning as well."

"I pushed a human out of me two months ago, cut me a break! It's normal to be a little hormonal."

"Jenna, I'm not trying to attack you here."

"Well then what are you trying to do? Because I've got a child waiting at home and I never wanted to book this appointment in the first place, so I'd appreciate you telling me what your goddamn problem is before you waste any more of my time!" She stood and tugged her purse over her shoulder, ready to flee. Jim stood up too, standing in front of the door and blocking her exit. They paused like that, both caught in surprise at her outburst. It was Jim who broke the silence first, his voice measured, as though scared he could spook her into running.

"You're displaying multiple markers for postpartum depression," he said evenly. "And I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to about it, but I can give you a counselor's number and a referral for some appointments, so you don't have to pay a penny. Please, Jenna." His voice cracked on her name.

They stood there for a moment, eyes locked in a silent war. When had his eyes become so sad? He looked on the verge of tears. Were those grey hairs sprouting near his temples? Even the smile lines next to his eyes looked deepened and withered. Jenn winced. Why had she been so cruel to him? He was a doctor, just trying to do his job. She took a deep breath.

"Why are you divorcing Francine?" She didn't realize she had asked the question until the words were out of her mouth, hanging in the air between them. They stood there for a moment, both surprised. Now that she had asked though, she wanted to know.

"I just. . ." he began, trailing off and hanging his head. She waited for him to finish his sentence, but he just sighed. Seconds ticked by as Jenna waited, Jim's head hung low, avoiding her gaze. When he looked back up, his expression was completely defeated, powerless, even pained.

"I realized after us—you and me, I mean—that it wasn't enough. We would talk about being doctors and work out and all that was nice. It was great, even. But what I felt for you just made it seem. . ." He cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes. Jenna felt a thickening in her chest. She wouldn't cry, not now.

Another pregnant pause as Jenna waited for him to speak. He didn't say anything else. What was there to say?

"I'll take that referral," she whispered. Silently, he crossed the room to the counter, scrawling a number on a slip of paper and ripping it from the pad. In a moment he was back in front of her, closer this time, close enough that she could smell his deodorant. He held out the little slip of paper with shaking fingers and she took it, careful not to touch his hand. She noticed her own was trembling too.

They stood there again, neither willing to look at each other or break the silence, neither willing to leave. She couldn't say how long it lasted—that terrible feeling of finality, of loss and longing.

After what seemed like hours, Jim lifted his arm towards her—he wasn't reaching for her, just showing her something. Jenna examined the hand, clean and slightly calloused—she didn't know what from—with its muscular forearm, dusted with dark hairs, a few scars darkening the skin in spots. She could see the purple veins on the inside of his wrist, different veins raised under the skin on the back of his palm.

It was a peace offering. She wanted so badly to raise her hand, to trail her fingers along his palm and encase his hand in her own. She could almost feel it. Slowly, tentatively, she raised her hand, hovering inches away from his own. They both stood there for a moment, feeling the air in between them—they weren't touching, but some sort of magnetic force between them made it feel as though they were. After a minute, it was Jenna who relented.

"I should go."

Immediately their hands dropped, the spell broken. The air felt five degrees cooler, a shiver spreading gooseflesh over Jenna's arms. "I mean, Lulu's at home, and Dawn has work. . ."

"Of course. Sorry."

He moved out of the way, letting her through the door. She paused once more, her hand on the knob. They looked at each other. Had he felt it too?

She wanted to rub her hand over the stubble on his cheek, flatten his hair and crook her finger under his chin, lift it and tell him the sadness in his eyes had no place there. She wanted to press herself against him and rest her head on his chest and rock in his arms, not saying a word, just knowing—she shook her head, trying to clear the thought from her mind. She couldn't do this, not to herself, not to him.

"Bye, Jim," she finally whispered. He waved, rolling his fingers half-heartedly at her. Then it was over.


	5. Chapter 5

Jenna's gaze broke from the pink envelope lying on the dresser in front of her. Lulu was crying again. _Fuck_.

It never stopped—first it would be a poopy diaper, then a feeding, then burping, then the diaper again, then a nap, but she wouldn't sleep, so just more crying. In the montage of caring for her, Jenna was barely aware of the quiet, peaceful moments. They never lasted long enough, never gave her enough time to go to the bathroom, or sleep, or do anything worthwhile.

She lay there in bed, defeated. She had just fed the goddamn baby and changed her diaper not even twenty minutes ago. Vaguely it occurred to her that a child needed more than those basic needs met, but the urge to meet them wasn't stronger than the powerful force keeping her planted in bed. Jenna tuned out again, her gaze falling back to the pink envelope, ignoring her squalling child.

A piercing scream broke her stupor, and Jenna roused herself enough to go peer at her baby in the crib. She used to smile at the sight of her blonde-haired, blue-eyed child, but not anymore. Now it was just a cold distance on the best days, and utter repulsion on the worst. Today was one of those. Looking at the snotty baby lying in the crib, Jenna struggled to believe it was hers.

That was when she noticed Lulu's feet—they were practically purple, with the tiny little toenails completely white. Her eyes traced back up and she realized her mistake—she had put on one of Lulu's old newborn onesies when she changed her earlier. The little leg holes must be cutting off the circulation to her feet. Jenna unbuttoned the crotch strap and Lulu's screams grew louder for a second as the blood returned. Within a moment, however, she quieted, bringing her fist to her cheek and fixing Jenna with a perfect, gummy smile. Jenna wanted to slap her.

The force of the hatred hit her like a punch in the stomach, and she immediately sat down on the bed, tears springing to her eyes. _What the hell?_

Without a second thought, she lifted Lulu from her crib and carried her out to the living room. Dawn was sitting there with the history channel on in the background, working on a hyper-realistic imitation of Betsy Ross' original US flag.

"What's up sweetie?" Dawn looked up as Jenna approached, her glasses slipping down her nose.

"Could you take Lulu?" Jenna didn't even try to hide the tears, shoving Lulu into Dawns arms and backing several feet away.

"Oh my god, what's wrong? Is she ok?" Dawn held the baby up, peering at her unbuttoned onesie.

"I just—" Jenna's voice choked off and she turned and fled back to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. The crib was in her way to her bed, so she kicked it with all her might. The force of the kick felt like it broke one of her toes, and she toppled over onto the ground.

Time slowed down and Jenna seemed to dissociate as she fell. There she was, watching her own body lying there on the ground, a snuffling, pathetic mess. Jenna felt her lip curl in distaste at the pitiful person in front of her—was that really her?

Then she snapped back into her own body, her head exploding, holding her blisteringly painful foot, breathing in the carpet fibers that still smelled like shampoo from when they bought the house.

"Jenna?" Dawn's voice penetrated through the door of her room, followed by a gentle knock.

"Don't come in!" Jenna gasped. Nobody could see her like this.

"Jenna please, you have me so worried. Come out here and we can talk."

"No! I'm fine, Dawn. Please, just leave me alone."

 _You wanted to hurt your baby._ Her conscious chose this moment to berate her, and the tears overtook her. Hatred was the proper emotion—deep, intense self-hatred. For being a pathetic, lonely, brat who thought she could make it on her own in the first place. For thinking she was above the way Earl treated her; clearly she wasn't. For thinking she was worthy of Jim's—Dr. Pomatter's—love, for ruining his marriage. For the burden she had become on Dawn and Ogie and Cal and Becky and her own child— _who she had wanted to hurt_.

Nausea rose in her stomach, overpowering her other senses and making her frantically reach for the trash bin next to her dresser. She yanked it towards herself and bent over it, ready for her stomach to expel its contents—which she then realized were nothing. She had forgotten to eaten breakfast. And had she eaten dinner yesterday? She couldn't recall. Nevertheless, the nausea clawed at her, causing her to break out in a cold sweat and her vision to tunnel black and green around the edges.

She tried to inhale deeply, fighting the empty, shallow breaths that only sped up her pounding heart. She felt her heart skip a beat, it's rhythm suddenly irregular. Was she having a heart attack? Her arms tingled as though numb or falling asleep. Jenna desperately squeezed the bin in front of her, silently willing herself to vomit so this could all be over. It didn't work.

She faded in and out, a cold sweat on her brow, a weight in her chest, like somebody was sitting on her. The pain in her toe faded to a dull ache, but the tears never stopped. Would she ever stop fucking crying?

A knock at the door.

"Go away," Jenna squeaked faintly. She heard the door swing open and felt shame vibrate through her spine, clawing around her stomach and squeezing her heart even tighter. "Please Dawn, just leave."

"It's not Dawn." His voice was calm and gentle. Why was he here?

"Go away."

He opened the door. Why did he always see her at her weakest? And why did he stick around? Hadn't she ruined his life?

"What are you doing here?"

"Dawn called—she's worried."

"Could you please just leave!" Jenna sobbed. She felt the floor shake a bit as he slid down the wall and landed next to her.

"Jenna, it's ok. What you're feeling is ok. I know that seems impossible to believe, but it's true. Did you call the counselor?"

Jenna felt her shoulders shake with another sob. The nausea was fading slowly. Then his hand was on her back, feeling the damp of her sweat through her shirt.

She couldn't explain what she did next.

She flung her arm out, striking him on his shoulder. Another punch was quick to follow, until she was flailing at him, never landing a square blow but assaulting him nonetheless. He covered his head, bearing the brunt of it, not trying to move away. Every ounce of anger she felt flew out of her; assailing him. She punched until she couldn't punch anymore, until she was out of breath and her hand was aching. She let her arms drop slowly, shame coursing through her.

They stayed there for a moment like that, him hunched down, her with tear-tracks down her cheeks, hair sticking to the damp spots.

"Jim, I'm—"

"Please, Jenna," he raised an arm to silence her. She brought her knees to her chest and set her chin on them, waiting for him to speak. He didn't say anything, just sitting next to her.

"You need to leave," she finally broke the silence. He didn't move, didn't respond.

"I ended it for a reason and like I said; this mess is mine. Having you around is only making everything harder."

"Jenna, you're not ok. You could seriously hurt Lulu, or yourself."

"I'll call the goddamn counselor. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No! I want—" Jim broke off. The exasperation in his voice was painful to hear. Jenna paused, waiting to hear what he had to say. He said nothing.

"I need you to leave," she whispered quietly, levelly. "Please. Just leave. I ruined my own life and now I've ruined yours too. Please don't make it harder. Just go."

He looked up. Jenna couldn't take it, and she braced her head between her knees, the nausea overtaking her again. She couldn't look at him.

"Jenna—"

"Goddammit Jim, just go!" she sobbed. He stayed there a moment longer, then finally rose and left.

* * *

"Jenna?" Dawn's voice broke Jenna's miserable reverie.

"Could you just feed her, please? I can't right now." Jenna stared at the bed in front of her. The fitted sheet had come off from the corner, and she was examining the print sewn into the mattress. How much time had passed since Jim left? Jenna couldn't recall. It could have been days. Who knew, really?

"It's not Lulu," Dawn's voice was hesitant. Jenna didn't respond. "It's uh, it's Dr. Pomatter."

"I told him to go away. Just make him go. Please. Why'd you even call him?"

"Because he's your doctor! But uh, he's not here."

"Sounds like the opposite of a problem," Jenna laughed bitterly.

"He's in the hospital, Jenna."

"Well yeah, he works there."

"No, an ambulance took him."

"What?"

"He uh, he's in the hospital, I guess. His wife said you were his emergency contact—I have them on the phone now—the hospital, I mean."

Jenna was up in an instant, bounding across the bed and plucking the receiver out of Dawn's hands in a flash.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Yes, hi, Mrs. Hunterson?"

"That's not my name anymore but yes, it's me. Jenna."

"Yes, hi, we have Jim Pomatter here, his wife said she was no longer his contact and that you should be called. He's in surgery now."

"Surgery? For what? What happened?"

"Why don't you come on down here—we have some paperwork for you to sign since Mrs. Pomatter has revoked her legal right as his medical proxy. Can you get here soon?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Jenna replied.

"Ok ma'am, please hurry."

She hung up the phone and turned to face Dawn.

"Why do you have to go?" Dawn asked, clearly confused. Why would Jenna be the emergency contact for her OB?

"Uhh, I'm not sure," Jenna hedged. "Listen, Dawn, I owe you an apology."

"I think we owe you an apology, actually," Dawn cut in before Jenna could continue.

"No absolutely not, I won't even let you think that—"

"Listen, Jenna. We knew when we asked you to move in that you would struggle with relying on us. We thought giving you space would help you feel independent and ok with the arrangement for as long as you needed. Clearly that was way off, and we should have realized a long time ago." Dawn wiped at her eyes with the edge of her cardigan. She had to have been thinking on this for a while.

"That's still no excuse for how I've treated you recently, especially in the past few days. And Lulu. I'm just. . . I don't even know the words."

"It's not. . . I mean, it doesn't. . ." Dawn petered out. What was there to say?

The two women stared at each other. It had been a good long while since they had talked, really talked, offering each other advice, or gossiping about meaningless things. Jenna tried to remember the last time she had seen Becky either. Had it only been twice since Lulu was born? Everything was strained, distant where it hadn't been, still there, but more tentative.

"You go. I've got Lulu," Dawn practically whispered.

"Yeah. Ok." Jenna paused again before reaching out and pulling Dawn into a hug, pressing Lulu between them. She breathed in the smell of baby and Dawn's shampoo. "I'm going to need some help with Lulu over the next few weeks, if that's ok. I'll call Becky too—it's been too long since I've seen her."

"Yeah, she's been worried about you. We all have."

"I'm worried about me too, to tell the truth," Jenna squeezed Dawn tighter in her arms. "But I'm going to get better. Now I really have to run. Jim—uh, Dr. Pomatter— needs me, I guess." Saying the words didn't make them feel any less strange.

"You call him Jim?" Dawn pulled away and looked at Jenna skeptically, the beginnings of understanding appearing in her expression.

"Uhh, yeah. Jim. I gotta run."

"You owe me an explanation!" Dawn called as Jenna hustled down the hall.

"Sure, sure," she yelled back absent-mindedly.

She bundled her jacket on quickly and stepped out the door. The entire bus ride to the hospital was spent in a jumble of nerves. What happened?


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm here for Jim Pomatter? He was brought in by ambulance, I don't know how long ago." Jenna peered over the counter at the ancient receptionist, who stared at her through massive horn-rimmed glasses.

"Of course, dearie. I take it you're the wife?"

"Uhh no, but they said I've been named as his medical proxy—"

"Aww yes, a concerned fiancé, I see."

Jenna didn't correct her, worried that doing so would cut off her access to Jim. She couldn't do that. The receptionist clacked away at her keyboard painfully slowly, peering at the screen in front of her through squinted eyes.

"Ok sweetie, he's in surgery now. You can head on up to the third floor and wait there for more information, I'll page them to let them know you're here. A doctor should come out and update you shortly. Good luck, and try not to worry, dearie. We have very good doctors here, they know exactly what they're doing."

Jenna didn't hear the last of what the old lady said as she hustled off to the stairwell. Perhaps the elevator would be easier, but she needed to get there, fast. Even if it was just to wait. The concrete blurred in front of her as she climbed, her footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

The third floor was dominated by two huge swinging doors, both marked with big red DO NOT ENTER signs. Waiting areas were arranged by formations of chairs on the industrial carpet in the room.

There were only two other families in the waiting room; some parents clearly waiting on their child, re-assuring a little boy that his sister would be ok, and an old man, perhaps waiting on his wife. Jenna found a chair in a different cluster and sat, impatiently tapping her toe, staring at the little plastic windows on the double doors, praying that they would swing open. She couldn't bring herself to pick a magazine up, too wired to focus on anything but the big double doors.

After a few minutes, the elevator bell rang. Jenna turned and stared as two police officers emerged from the elevator doors, scanning the room until their eyes settled on her. Of course.

"Mrs. Hunterson?" They strolled over casually, the taller of the pair addressing Jenna.

"Yes?" She didn't bother to correct them.

"You're here for Mr. Pomatter?"

"It's pronounced pom-uh-door, not poe-matter. But yes. I am. Are you going to tell me what happened now?"

"We were actually hoping you could do us that favor; can you step outside so we can take your statement?"

"My statement? On what? I'm trying to find out what the hell happened. Why is he in the hospital? Was there an accident?"

"Not quite, ma'am. Did nobody inform you of what occurred?"

"Obviously not!"

"Well if you step outside with us, we'll gladly get you up to speed."

"They said they'd be out to give an update soon though," Jenna glanced at the big double doors again.

"How about we just head to the far end of the floor, where we'll still be in sight but have a little more privacy?

"Ok." Jenna followed them tensely away from the other families.

"So, Mrs. Hunterson—"

"That's not my name."

"Oh, ok. Uhh, then, what should I call you?"

"Jenna is just fine." She stuck her chin out, daring them to challenge her.

"Ok, Jenna. We were called to a ten ten, and when we arrived—"

"I'm sorry, what's a ten ten?"

"She's a civilian, Bruce," the other officer—who had thus far remained silent—piped in.

"Oh, yeah, uh, sorry. We were called to a fight, I meant to say."

"Jim wouldn't have gotten in a fight—there must be some mistake."

"Yes, uh, the call was for a supposed fight between Mr. Pomatter and a John Doe—or, I mean to say, an unidentified male suspect—and upon arrival it was clear that this was not so much a fight as an assault, as Mr. Pomatter was at a clear—uhh—disadvantage, I guess."

"Earl."

"I'm sorry ma'am, what was that?"

Jenna hadn't even realized she had said the name out loud.

"It'll be Earl Hunterson. Not a John Doe."

"Is that Hunterson as in your husband?" The other officer was quick to catch on.

"My soon-to-be ex husband." Jenna stuck her thumb in her mouth, chewing on a hang-nail.

"Oh, ok ma'am. Now, is this the first time that Mr. Hunterson has sought out Mr. Pomatter—"

"Jim," Jenna corrected him, pulling her thumb from her mouth momentarily.

"Yes, well, is this the first time Mr. Hunterson has followed Jim?"

"Wait—he followed him? Where did this happen?"

"It happened at the bar on Higgins Road."

"Oh then, he didn't follow him."

"And why do you say that?"

"Earl is there all the time. He gets drunk and then comes over and bangs on my door. Scares the living hell out of me. Jim must have gone to the bar and it was just his luck he got in the way." Jenna noticed the double doors swinging open down at the other end of the ward as she spoke. A women in green surgical scrubs stepped out and looked around, seemingly puzzled until she noticed Jenna and the officers at the other end of the floor.

"Pardon me," Jenna said, "but I gotta go get an update. I'm sure y'alls questions can wait." She wedged herself between them and sped down the floor to where the nurse waited.

"You're Mrs. Hunterson?" The nurse eyed her up and down, seemingly disbelieving. Jenna couldn't blame her—she had been wearing the same spit-up stained t-shirt for a few days now, and she couldn't really remember the last time she'd washed her hair. She must look a sight.

"Just Jenna. But yes, I am. Is he ok?"

"How much did the officers tell you?"

"He was attacked, right? By some fat drunken asshole—pardon my French."

"Yes, that's essentially the case. Thankfully the, err, _asshole_ was quite drunk, so he wasn't packing much force. Your friend would be dead if that weren't the case."

Jenna felt the blood rush out of her head, her vision going spotty. The nurse noticed and reached an arm out, grabbing Jenna's fore-arm and steadying her before she could fall.

"I'm so sorry hun, that's not what I meant. Well it is, but what I _should_ say is that Mr. Pomatter is going to be fine. He's going to be just fine. He's heading to recovery now and as soon as he's awake you can see him."

"Ok, ok, good." Jenna took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It felt as though her exhaustion had suspended itself while she was uncertain about Jim and whether he would be ok. Now that she knew however, it returned like a brick wall, striking fatigue into every bone in her body. She struggled to remain upright, practically leaning on the nurse. Vaguely, a thought emerged from the fog that had just rolled into her brain. "What happened? Why did he need surgery?"

"His spleen ruptured from one of the blows—they had to perform a partial splenectomy to remove the damaged portion. Thankfully they didn't have to take the whole thing out—that can lead to other complications—and they were able to do it laparoscopically, so his recovery will be nice and quick."

"So that's just it? Part of his spleen?" Jenna asked. Obviously it was terrifying, but in the grand scheme of things—he could live without some spleen.

"Well, not quite," the nurse hedged.

"What else?"

"That was the only thing requiring surgery, thank goodness, but he did suffer quite a few other injuries."

"Like what?" Jenna asked impatiently, ignoring the shaking that was starting in her legs.

"Do you just want the list?"

Jenna nodded.

"Ok well, he's going to have a major concussion when he wakes up—he was unconscious on the scene so we have yet to assess the damage, but the paramedics said his pupillary response was delayed, so we can be almost certain on that front. He has quite a few lacerations including a nasty one they stitched up in the OR, and he has quite the black eye as well. He likely has some massive contusions on his abdomen—that's where the spleen bleed was, and with all that blood under his skin it just looks like one massive bruise, so we can't be certain there. We'll know more in a few days. One of his ribs is definitely broken, right above the spleen, which made it a tricky piece of surgery they did in there for him—be sure to thank the doctors. There might be another couple rib breaks, we didn't have time to x-ray before the surgery, so that will be something to check for once he's stabilized. Past that, he has a lot of defensive bruises, and a pretty nasty ankle sprain where it looks like he went down under whoever it was that assaulted him—we'll x-ray that as well to make sure it's not a break. We'd usually put the sprain alone on crutches, but with all his other injuries present that would be irresponsible—it'll be on you to help him get around."

"Oh, I'm not—"

"You're not what?" The nurse looked at Jenna expectantly. Jenna paused for a moment, catching her breath. All of that had happened to Jim. Because of her. But who would help him? Francine didn't speak to him, and he had never mentioned any other friends before. She didn't even know about his mom and dad—he'd only ever mentioned Francine's family, in Connecticut. And Earl had done it. Earl didn't know though, did he? About their affair? He had to, if he had assaulted Jim. How did he find out? It was too much.

"Hun? Are you ok?" The nurse reached out again, grasping Jenna's arm. Jenna realized she'd completely tuned out and shook her head, trying to regain focus.

The police officers stood just feet away, waiting to pounce once the nurse relinquished her, and Jim was somewhere in there, concussed and injured and needing help, and her baby was at home, soon to need a feeding and a change and Jenna hadn't pumped that morning, so her breasts were achy and full and dear god, it was all just too much. The nurses hand tightened on Jenna's arm, pulling her back from the tides of anxiety beginning to overtake her.

"Ok hun, how about we just sit down," Jenna was vaguely aware of being led to one of the chairs in the waiting area, the other people watching her apprehensively. Just then, a male nurse in scrubs poked his head through the doorway.

"He's awake," he said, swinging the door wide.

"You ready to go see him?" The nurse holding Jenna's arm asked, concerned eyes peering into Jenna's own. Jenna just nodded, standing shakily and walking toward the male nurse. The nurse holding her arm walked with Jenna, half-supporting her. The blood started sounding like rushing waves in Jenna's ears, overwhelming her. It was when they turned a corner and Jenna saw the curtains lining the wall, some closed, some open revealing empty beds, that she froze.

"I can't," she whispered.

"He's going to be ok, sweetie," the nurse promised. "He'll look mighty ugly, but he'll get better. You get to help him get better."

Something inside Jenna twisted, and she felt herself choke up. She shook her head frantically.

"He doesn't want me, I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm down on the papers, it's not, uhh, it's not what it seems. I can't—"

"Jenna?"

His voice was thready and weak, emerging from the curtains somewhere. The nurse grabbed Jenna's arm and, before she could protest, ushered her through the curtains of the second-nearest bay.

He was dark. That was the only way to describe it. From his black hair to the dark red cut spanned by three black stitches to the purply shadow around his left eye, the reddish-purple bruises on his forearms, it was all just _dark_. Jenna let her eyes travel down to his mid-section and balked at the red seeping into the bandage on the left side of his ribcage. The nurse followed her eyes and noticed it, dropping Jenna's arm and rushing to remove the white gauze. Once more, the blood in Jenna's ears pounded loudly as she saw what was underneath—the skin was nearly black, bloated and dusky. Stitches spanned three incisions and held the skin together tightly. The incisions were ugly things, two of them under an inch long, the last one just under two inches. The nurse swabbed the blood away from the largest with some gauze pads, then gently laid a larger square over the area and taped it down around the edges.

"Some bleeding is normal, he'll be fine." She was back at Jenna's side in a moment, squeezing her arm once more.

"You came," he whispered from the bed. Had he just been letting her size him up that whole time? Jenna couldn't even tell if his eyes were open through the swelling. "Why?" he faltered, coughing once and wincing.

"Now don't you start coughing on me yet, boy," the nurse scolded him, and Jim looked properly chagrined. Jenna didn't realize she had walked over to the bed until she was running her fingers through his hair, feeling how dirty it was.

"I was put down as your emergency contact," she whispered. "By Francine."

He closed his eyes and grimaced.

"Sorry."

"Shh, it's not your fault." Jenna gently laid a finger over his lips, hating herself as soon as she had done it. She realized as her finger brushed over it that he had a scab on his lip—it looked like he had bit himself in the scuffle somehow.

"You can go."

"You're kidding, right? Who'll take care of you?"

"Francine's required to. Technically she's still my wife." He smiled wanly, and Jenna felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards with his. How could he be cracking a joke right now?

"I think she'd sooner finish the job than help you re-coup," Jenna sniffled. When had she started crying? Jim heard the thickening of her voice and opened his eyes again, peering at her.

"Jenna, you said you wanted no part of this. Go. It's ok. I'll be fine." He coughed as he said the word 'fine', and something seized him. He kept coughing, and Jenna listened to the awful grating sound coming from his ribcage, the white bandage over the surgery site wetting with more blood, his face reddening with pain and effort as the cough wracked his body. The nurse rushed to his side and pushed his shoulders into the bed.

"Stop coughing! Choke if you have to! Hold it in!" She coached him through the fit as Jenna sat there, paralyzed, watching it all happen in front of her. He looked like he was dying, and as the cough faded, it left him wheezing.

"S-sorry," he tried to say.

"Shhh, stop talking. You only make it worse. Try to sleep."

"You should—just go." He closed his eyes and tried to turn away as much as he could, wincing at the movement.

"Nope. This mess is mine. Fat chance I'm leaving now."

"What does that mean?" he rasped.

"Sleep, Jim." Jenna sat in the molded plastic chair by his bed, not daring to touch him as he faded out of consciousness. Once she was sure he was out, she reached out and took his hand in her own. As she did so, she was surprised to see his knuckles weren't scraped or bruised at all—of course, he hadn't thrown a single punch in the entire thing. He hadn't when she had attacked him earlier either. He always just took what the world threw at him, never retaliating, never hitting back.


	7. Chapter 7

Jenna was woken up by a gentle pressure on her shoulder. She raised her head from where it lay on her crossed arms and peered through squinting eyes in the fluorescent lighting at Dawn, crouched next to her. Lulu was in her arms, smiling at Jenna and holding her little arms out, wanting to be picked up. Jenna instinctively reached for her and Dawn relinquished her grip. Lulu was warm and clean and smelled of baby powder. Immediately, she started rutting at Jenna's shirt, hungry.

"Sorry, I was going to feed her what you had pumped, but I realized you didn't pump, and she just wouldn't take the formula," Dawn apologized.

"Shh, it's fine," Jenna glanced at Jim's sleeping form in the bed next to her; he had graciously moved over so she could rest against the bed. "I forgot to pump earlier, I've been getting mighty achy."

She lifted her shirt and obligingly took the nursing blanket from Dawn, getting Lulu adjusted. She realized as she did so how good it felt, how natural and sweet and warm Lulu felt nestled up against her. When was the last time it felt that good?

"How is he? What happened?" Dawn whispered pointedly, glancing at Jim. Jenna sighed, eying his bandage. When they had moved him a few hours ago to the private room, the nurse instructed Jenna to press the call button whenever she noticed blood seeping through the bandage. It had gradually slowed over the course of the evening, thankfully, and the gauze was still snowy white now.

"I'm not gonna say he's ok, because that would be a lie, but he will be," Jenna whispered back. "It was Earl."

"Oh my god," Dawn whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah. He did a number on him."

"Why?"

"It's a long story, Dawn,"

"I've got time," Dawn shot back, her little chin jutted out, putting her dimples on full display.

"Well, Dr. Pomatter and I, we had, I guess you would call it, an affair? When I was pregnant."

"You what?!"

"We slept together. A lot. It was a whole thing, but it's over now. I ended it."

"You slept with your gynecologist? What were you thinking!?"

"I was lonely and miserable and Earl. . . Please don't ride me on this, I've already tortured myself enough about it."

"I'm just surprised."

"I ended it," Jenna defended. "Didn't matter anyways though, we've gone well and ruined things now anyways."

"What do you mean? Or—wait, is that why his wife isn't here?"

"He did that, but, yeah, I guess. She knows. And I guess Earl does too, though I have no idea in hell how he found out," Jenna shifted Lulu to the other breast, adjusting the blanket and taking a deep breath. "So, Francine—his wife—found out and made them call me instead, some sort of vindictive joke or something."

"What are you gonna do? What's wrong with him, I mean?" Dawn asked, glancing again at Jim's mangled body in the bed, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

"Earl burst his spleen, for starters. Broke a rib or two, they're not sure yet on that. He's got a whole list of things wrong with him."

"And so you called his parents?"

"No," Jenna hesitated.

"Why not?"

"Well for starters, I don't have their number. When he wakes up I'll ask, but I think they're not—well, I don't think they're involved. In his life."

"Well then what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna take care of him! It was Earl that did this after all; it's my fault."

"What Earl does is _not_ your fault, Jenna. That's the kind of thinking that got you trapped in that marriage to start with!"

"No, Dawn, it's not like that—"

"Then what is it like? You taking responsibility for what that jerk does to others?!"

"Shh!" Jenna glanced at Jim in alarm. She paused. "Earl's been coming to the house still. I didn't want to tell you and worry you."

"He what? For how long?"

"Ever since those few times when you were there. Every week at least."

"Jenna! Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want to burden y'all with it. You were never home when it happened, so I didn't have to worry. Plus, what would the cops even do if I reported him? He never got violent."

"Was he threatening you?"

"Well yeah, but he never does anything about those."

"Well he clearly did!" Dawn stared pointedly at Jim again.

"Yeah, but that wasn't to me."

"Did the police talk to you?"

"Yeah." Lulu started fussing and Jenna pulled the nursing blanket off, putting it over her shoulder and starting to pat Lulu on the back, waiting for a burp.

"And?!"

"I told them he had been coming to my house, but they didn't seem to care. When Jim wakes up they have to talk to him, ask what happened and if he wants to press charges and all that. We'll find out more then."

"You oughta talk to them again, see what you can do."

"I'm sure this will teach Earl his lesson, whether or not he gets charged. He's in jail right now and I can't think of a person in the world that would post bail for him."

"Jenna," Dawns voice was serious. Clearly, she didn't believe the threat was gone.

"It's not an issue to talk about now, Dawn." Lulu burped and Jenna cradled her in her arms, rocking gently. Lulu smiled up at her and gurgled happily, her cheeks rosy. Jenna smiled at her, feeling a warmth and connection she hadn't for a while. Dawn looked between the pair.

"Ok. I'll leave it," she finally whispered. "When did you last eat?"

"I'm not hungry," Jenna didn't take her eyes off Lulu as she rocked.

"You need to eat, Jenna. How about I stay with the doctor and Lulu, and you go get some food?"

"Fat chance I'm leaving him. They say his condition's still serious."

"Ok, you stay, and I'll go get you some food. I can take Lulu too," she held her arms out for the baby, and Jenna surprised herself by yanking her away. Dawn recoiled and Jenna looked down at her baby, Lulu's eyes wide with surprise at the sudden movement. She didn't cry though, just smiling at Jenna once more.

"I can keep Lulu," Jenna whispered. "I'll just get her to sleep. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's fine," Dawn replied. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. I'll go get you some pie from the diner, ok? I think I've gotten the hang of that chicken pot pie by now, even though it's nowhere near as good as yours. I'll bring that back for you, ok? And I brought the pump, if you wanted to do that."

Jenna nodded, still looking at Lulu. "Wave bye to Auntie Dawn," she cooed at her baby, lifting Lulu's hand to wave at Dawn. Dawn smiled and left, leaving Jenna with Lulu and a sleeping Jim.

She stood and began to pace the room, rocking her baby, humming a song her mom used to sing to her under her breath.

"She's marvelous."

Jenna almost jumped out of her socks.

"Jim! You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," he whispered, still smiling. "But this is the first time I've seen her since the birth. She's amazing."

"You want to see her closer? I don't think you can hold her."

"True," he chuckled and then winced. Jenna brought Lulu closer and cradled her in the space against his good side. He looked down at those blue eyes and Jenna watched him melt, as every other person did too. "Dear lord. Wow. That is the cutest baby I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot of babies."

"Aww, you're just saying that," Jenna grinned though, knowing hers was something special.

"Fat chance." Jim lifted a finger and brushed it over Lulu's cheek. Her dozing eyes opened at the sensation and she smiled, reaching for the finger that hovered so close, wrapping her tiny pink fingers around it, not even able to close her fist all the way.

"She likes you," Jenna whispered, her heart overflowing with some feeling—was that pride?

"I like her," Jim looked up at Jenna then, and she looked away quickly, unable to meet his eyes. "You're doing better," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Jenna didn't say more, not wanting to talk about it. "You're not."

"I'm so sorry Francine made them call you. I'll be fine, you don't have to stay."

"I'm staying. It's not a question."

"Jenna. . ."

"Jim."

They stared at each other, a battle of wills, neither backing down. Until Jim coughed.

Jenna laid Lulu down next to him on the bed, then just like the nurses had instructed, she placed her hands on both his shoulders, holding him to the bed. His coughs wracked his body, and Jenna prayed as she held him down, hoping he wouldn't push Lulu off the bed in his spasms. As the cough faded and his ragged breathing commenced, he clenched his right arm around her little body, keeping her cushioned against his side and far from the edge of the bed. When Jenna finally backed away, Lulu was snugged against his side, smiling and waving at her.

"And _that_ is why I'm not leaving."

"Jenna, I can't ask you to stay—"

"Jim, it was Earl who did that to you."

"I know."

"My ex."

"I know."

"I owe you—"

"You don't owe me anything."

"Jim! He wouldn't—"

"His actions are not your responsibility."

"Would everybody stop telling me that!"

"They're not!"

"They are! If I had never cheated on him with you he wouldn't have assaulted you, therefore his actions are my fault. And you will not convince me otherwise, Dr. Pomatter! Now please try and rest!" Jenna went to lift Lulu from her spot on the bed next to him, but Jim held her tighter.

"Can Lulu stay? I like her here." His voice was vulnerable.

"Sure," Jenna whispered, settling herself on that side of the bed and watching her daughters eyes flutter shut in time with Jim's. She stayed that way until Dawn showed up an hour later with Becky and a slice of chicken pot pie in hand.


	8. Chapter 8

"You better have a very good explanation for me," Becky stood with her arms crossed in the doorway, staring Jenna down from across the room. Jenna felt trapped, the pump still attached to her breast, a sleeping Jim caught in the crossfire with a slumbering Lulu snugged against his side. Becky's rage radiated in waves, filling the room, palpable.

"Becky," Jenna placated, quickly removing the pump and righting her shirt. She glanced at Jim, but he was still snoring. Dawn hovered behind Becky in the doorway, peering at Jenna with her wide doe eyes, equally frightened.

"Jenna," Becky said testily.

They stood there in silence for a minute. Then, suddenly, Becky rushed across the room. For a moment Jenna feared she would be body slammed into the glass windows behind her. Instead, Becky yanked her to her feet and wrapped her arms around Jenna tightly, practically smothering her in a suffocating hug. Jenna flailed for a moment against Becky's massive chest until she relented, loosening her grip slightly so Jenna could breathe again.

"I could kill you right now," Becky whispered, keeping her arms wrapped around Jenna. Jenna had to smile, even being crushed as she was. She didn't respond, basking in the warmth of just being held by somebody who cared. Finally, Becky let go and backed away, gruffly smoothing down the front of her diner uniform. "Don't you ever even _think_ of doing that to me again!" She scolded.

Jenna couldn't help but look abashed. Two months and she had seen Becky twice; both in the weeks immediately following Lulu's birth as they all frantically removed her belongings from the house she had shared with Earl. It had easily been six weeks since the last time she'd seen her. A hard six weeks, too.

"If there weren't a dying man in the bed I would be giving you a piece of my mind right about now," Becky continued.

"He's not dying! And this is the first time I've been out of the house for more than an hour or two at a stretch," Jenna whispered, glancing at Jim again.

"That's half the problem!" Becky shot back.

"I know, I know," Jenna placated. "Now could you keep your voice down? He needs to rest."

"Don't you go all mothering on him too now, girl," Becky glared accusingly at Jenna and she shrank under the gaze. "You left him in the first place so you could be there for Lulu, don't let no idiot ex of yours start re-routing that plan."

"I'm not! And he's not an idiot," Jenna defended.

"I ain't talking about this one, girl," Becky said knowingly.

"She knew?" Dawn accused. "How did everybody know about this but me?"

"It was my business Dawn!" Jenna said sharply. She paused for a moment, realizing how harsh she sounded. "Everybody has their secrets, right, Becky?" She watched Becky's cheeks redden, a look of indignation crossing her features. Dawn caught it, but apparently was less willing to risk Becky's wrath than Jenna's, and let it drop with a "harrumph!".

"How long are you planning on playing nurse-maid?" Becky asked briskly, changing the topic.

"He has nobody else. I'm just here until he's back on his feet."

"Don't you go forgetting that now," Becky scolded.

"You'll be wanting your pie, Jenna. You need to eat," Dawn quickly proffered the foil-wrapped package of pie, attempting to diffuse the tension and Jenna took it obligingly, opening it and tucking in with a fork. While she ate, Becky regaled her with stories from the diner, updating her on the customers they all loved and hated the most, sharing some Cal stories that had Jenna's sides splitting, trying to hold her laughter in so as not to wake Jim.

After a good hour, a nurse poked her head in the door.

"I know he was just admitted today, but we have to keep some sort of order, and visiting hours are long since over. I'm gonna have to ask you ladies to skidaddle until tomorrow."

"It's ok for me to stay, right?" Jenna asked. The nurse earlier had said she could, but she just wanted to be sure.

"Just fine sweetheart. It can't be a party though," The nurse glanced at Dawn and Becky.

"Yeah yeah, we're leaving," Becky replied caustically. The nurse took that as her cue to leave, and her head quickly disappeared from the door frame.

"I'll take Lulu home now, if that's ok with you," Dawn asked tentatively, remembering earlier. "She'll probably do better in her crib, though she does seem happy now. I'll bring her back in the morning if you'd like, before I go to work."

"That sounds great," Jenna replied, gently lifting Lulu from Jim's side and putting her in Dawn's arms. Jim shifted once she was gone, adjusting as though searching for her in his sleep. "Could you bring her carrier tomorrow? If she'll be here a while I want her comfy. And the full diaper bag? And the pump, too, if that's not too much to ask."

"Don't worry hun, I'll bring it all." Dawn soothed. This was the first night Jenna would ever spend away from Lulu.

They left then, Becky with much fuss over when she could ever hope to see Jenna again, Dawn with many placations about remembering specific lotions and onesies and diapers. They left behind them a strange silence, punctuated by muted beeps from Jims monitoring equipment and echoing noises from down the halls.

"Sorry the party had to end," Jim whispered from his bed. Jenna jumped at his voice and landed with her hand on her heart.

"Jesus Jim, could you stop doing that?"

"Sorry. I feel as though the whole hospital bed thing makes it a bit weird for me to enter conversations halfway through."

"That doesn't mean you have to frighten me like that!"

"Sorry," he replied.

"How are you feeling?" Jenna asked.

"Better. Less like a truck hit me, more like a man. Which is fitting, I guess."

"You're not gonna let me apologize for him, are you?" It was a statement, not a question. Jim smiled mutedly, his mouth a strained line.

"I wish you could see through my eyes," he said.

"What?"

"You could see how silly you sound when you say that."

Jenna harrumphed, crossing her arms indignantly. "Are you at least going to press charges?"

"Against Earl? God no."

"Why not? He assaulted you!"

"He's just dealing. In his own way. Which perhaps isn't the best, but still."

"He ruptured your spleen, Jim."

"Do you want me to press charges?"

"Of course!" Jenna retorted.

"Really? You want to go to court and have this drawn out for months, all in the name of making him pay money we both know he doesn't have? Because that's what will happen. He can't afford it, and I don't want to be the reason he's in jail, and I don't want to be stuck here while we wait to find out which unfortunate future the miserable man has ahead of him. It would take months. And I don't plan on sticking around."

"You don't?" Jenna asked. The words punched her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

Had she really expected him to stay? After all, the only reason he was in this place originally was to support his wife during her residency. _That_ was no longer an issue.

"What is there for me here? A tiny OB practice and my ex wife and the woman I loved. Nothing."

Jenna didn't reply, letting his words swirl in her mind. _The woman he loved?_ He had said it, before things had ended. Told her he loved her. The feeling the words had sent through her curled her toes and made her cheeks hurt resisting the urge to smile. It shouldn't surprise her that he had meant them; that he still acknowledged them. He was a man of his word, after all. And she shouldn't be surprised he would want to leave. She always had too. But somehow it still hurt. A lot.

"You should go now," Jim broke the silence. Jenna was startled from her thoughts. Jim sat there, looking at her with a mournful expression. That was his reality. He had loved her. _Had._ Not anymore. And she didn't love him. Had she ever? He was an oasis, a temporary respite from the hell that Earl had made her life. Being with him had been nice, but it had come with an accompaniment of shame and fear and wickedness. Everything Joe warned her about was true. She didn't want to be the person she was when she was with Jim. Seeing him only reminded her of that time, of the feelings and happiness and humiliation. They both needed to get out of here. She shouldn't be surprised. She shouldn't be hurt. She just shouldn't.

She stood and walked to his bed, carefully lifting him forward and beginning to fluff his pillows.

"Is this comfortable?" She asked, leaning him back against them in a semi-upright position.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. If you go, I mean. I'll be fine. There's good nurses here."

Jenna still didn't reply, merely picking up the pile of blankets at the foot of his bed and draping one over his body, tucking it in around him, being extra gentle with his sore ribs. He watched as she unfolded another and laid it out on the couch by the window, setting a pillow at one end—her bed for the night. He didn't protest again as she laid down and curled up on her side, facing away from him.

She didn't wish him goodnight, didn't say a word, just felt everything she had been avoiding; missing her baby, wanting desperately to start the life she had promised herself, somehow still feeling tied to this Podunk town and handsome doctor and all the awful feelings that accompanied him.


	9. Chapter 9

If anybody had asked, Jenna would not have admitted how much she liked watching Jim and Lulu sleeping next to each other.

After Dawn had brought Lulu earlier that morning—bathed, fed, and very giggly—Jenna had played with her for a while, changed her, and laid her in her carrier to nap. She and Jim hadn't spoken since he woke up, and Lulu was a nice distraction from the stubborn tension in the air.

The police officers had come to speak to Jim and Jenna had stepped outside with Lulu so they could have the room. Through the glass window in the door, she watched Jim answer their questions calmly and methodically. At one point they all turned and looked at her. She had felt her cheeks blush red under their gaze, still rocking Lulu gently in her arms.

The questions only took about twenty minutes and when they left, the officers smiled at Jenna and cooed at Lulu for a bit. Jim had spoken to her for the first time as she re-entered the room, to ask if Lulu could nap with him, and Jenna had obliged, laying her in the same spot she'd been the day before. They'd been sleeping like that for nearly two hours now. Jenna couldn't remember the last time Lulu had napped that long during the day—she usually slept in fits and starts, never more than thirty or forty-five minutes at a time.

A gentle knocking on the door frame broke Jenna's focus, and she whipped her head around, embarrassed to have been caught staring at Jim and the baby. Becky was there, dressed in a sun dress and jean jacket.

"Hi Becky! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to relieve you. You need to go home, take a break. Shower, change clothes, eat a full meal that's not from the café downstairs."

"Is it your day off? You don't need to come babysit for me!"

"Don't you tell me what to do! And look, I brought you a present," Becky held out a key ring in front of her, jangling the keys on it.

"Whose car is that?" Jenna asked.

"Cal's. He's at the diner and I have it til 5, and this is me gifting it to you. Go get yourself something nice to eat, rest for a while. I can hold down the fort."

"No! You are not spending your day off sitting here."

"I'm going to plant my ass and do my sudoku either way; you can choose to sit with me in your grimy clothes with this," she sniffed the air, "odor of yours permeating the room and your stomach growling so loud it'll wake the baby, or you can go take advantage of the break. Up to you."

Becky traversed the room and settled herself on the end of the couch furthest from Jenna, wrinkling her nose as though smelling something particularly disgusting—Jenna had to admit, she couldn't remember the last time she'd bathed, and her hair would stay in the same place even if she took the pony-tail out, it was so greasy. Becky pulled out a worn paperback sudoku book and set in with a pen, studiously ignoring Jenna.

Jenna sat there for a moment, not knowing what to do.

"Fine," she finally growled. "Give me the damn keys." She held her hand out, and Becky smiled triumphantly, dumping the keys in her hand.

"Atta girl. Seeya in a few hours."

"I'll be back in an hour."

"You better not!"

"Stop being so goddamn soft on me."

"Then take the fucking break!"

Jenna marched out in a huff, her purse tucked under her arm. Why wouldn't they just leave her alone?

* * *

It was exactly one hour and thirty seven minutes later when Jenna returned.

Becky glanced at her watch and gave Jenna a disapproving look, but didn't bring it up. After all, her hair was wet, her cheeks rosy, and she looked about five years younger than when she had left. The dress she was wearing might have contributed to that; a summery flowy piece that looked comfortable as hell.

"How's Lulu?" Jenna asked as she set her purse down.

"She's fine," Jim answered from the bed. Jenna jumped; she hadn't realized he was awake. Becky laughed at her alarm and Jenna smoothed her dress indignantly.

"You can't get mad at me for that one!" Jim chuckled, then winced. "I was sitting up when you came in, you're the one that didn't notice." Lulu was cuddled up against him at the incline in his bed, lifting her head a little and grinning at him as he spoke.

"How long has she been doing that for?" Jenna asked, pointing at her daughter.

"Doing what? Is something wrong?" Jim asked with alarm.

"No, she's holding her head up! How long has she been doing that?"

Jim and Becky glanced at each other.

"For a while now, I guess? Why?" Becky finally replied.

"She's only been holding it up for a few seconds at a time!" Jenna exclaimed. She walked over and picked Lulu up, holding her in front of her and watching her little girl hold her head up and look Jenna in the eye excitedly, giggling gleefully. She felt Jim's and Becky's eyes on her as she smiled at her little girl proudly.

"Well look at that!" Becky smiled too, watching Jenna's expression. "What a smart girl! She'll be on her feet in no time!"

Jenna laughed and swung Lulu onto her hip, bouncing and laughing with her baby. When she finally looked away from Lulu, she caught Jim staring at her, a warm smile on his face. It seemed to erase the lines that had formed in the months since she'd seen him last. He quickly diverted his glance when she looked up, turning his attention to Lulu.

"Well, I think we should celebrate. Shall I call for some Jello?" He offered from the bed. "The green stuff is disgusting, but the red and orange isn't too bad." He pressed the call button for the nurse as he spoke, and Jenna watched as he also subtly pressed the little red button to up his pain medicine dosage. She hadn't seen him use it yet, but she guessed his chuckle earlier and the excitement in the last few minutes hadn't felt very good on his ribs.

"I'll let you two celebrate, I've got a hot date to get ready for." Becky pulled a lipstick from her enormous handbag as she spoke, followed by a compact mirror which she opened and used to apply the fuchsia shade to her lips, smacking them loudly.

"I'm guessing not with Phil?" Jenna raised an eyebrow and Becky smiled at her as she snapped the compact shut.

"With Cal. That's another thing you missed at the diner; Sue left him. For Caroline, the lady at the automotive shop off the highway. It's very amicable; he told her about us too. We're official now. With Phil's blessing. He knows. And he's happy for me."

"Oh Becky, why didn't you tell me!" Jenna squealed.

"You've been incognito for months! And now you know. So adios!" Becky swept from the room in a dramatic swagger, leaving Jenna and Jim behind.

The nurse arrived a minute later with a few Jello cups already in hand—apparently Jim was making a name for himself as the biggest Jello consumer in the ward. He dug into an orange cup while the nurse checked his vitals and surgery site. Jenna peered at the stitches while still bouncing Lulu on her hip; they were still swollen and red, but they were clean now, and beginning to yellow out around the edges. The massive black bruises had also receded, and while they were still frighteningly large, they were a much lighter shade of purple, spanned by some angry red streaks.

"Well that's not looking too bad!" she smiled at Jim and he smiled wanly back.

"It feels better too," he mumbled as the nurse held a stethoscope to his chest.

"She's not wrong," the nurse smiled at him too as she removed the stethoscope and made a note on his chart. "I'd say if you continue like this you can go home tomorrow, no doubt about it. I'm assuming the missus here will be helping with your aftercare?"

"She's not—"

"I'm not—"

Jenna and Jim both stopped, grinning nervously at the nurse and glancing awkwardly at each other.

"Well, you'll be helping?" the nurse asked Jenna.

"Yes," Jenna said, just as Jim said, "No."

Exasperated, the nurse looked between the two of them, glancing from face to face.

"I will be. Taking care of him, I mean. Or helping him. Whatever it is!"

"You mean you will be staying in the same household, 24/7, for the duration of his post-op recovery?"

"Yup," Jenna gulped. She hadn't fully anticipated that, and she didn't know what she'd do with Lulu, but she'd make it work.

"Ok. I'll be back with dinner in a few hours, why don't y'all rest up. We can go over at-home instructions after he eats so you have time to ask questions before being discharged tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Great," Jenna replied weakly.

"Good," the nurse said gruffly. She bustled out of the room, clearly fed up with the mixed signals between the two of them. Jim glared at Jenna from the bed just as Lulu started fussing, getting hungry. Jenna didn't take her eyes off Jim as she lowered the hem of her dress and adjusted Lulu to start nursing. She was impressed by how his angry eyes never left hers, never flitted down to try and catch a glimpse of her breast before Lulu latched on. He always was so honorable. It had never been just about the sex for him. Which is what made it so hard.

"I suggest we set some rules." Jenna said.

"Rules?"

"Ground rules. For me living with you."

"Jenna—"

"The first," she interrupted, "will be that you absolutely cannot protest me being there. I am going to help, and you are going to accept it, and that's that."

"I just think—"

"The second," Jenna interrupted again, "will be that we do not discuss the. . . thing that happened between us. At all. Ever. Not allowed. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Do you have any you would like to put in place?"

"If you're going to be staying with me, can you bring Lulu? Our place is only two bedrooms, but she can stay in mine if you'd like one to yourself or anything like that. I'd like to have her there." His tone was so delicate it tugged at Jenna's heart strings.

"Sure. I have a portable crib anyways, so that shouldn't be too much effort, it'll just be getting it on the bus. . ." Jenna faded out as she tried to think of the logistics of transporting Lulu's things and wondering how long she'd have to stay for.

"Jenna?"

"Sorry, what?" Jenna shook her head, distracted from her planning.

"You zoned out," Jim smiled at her.

"What is it, Jim?" she asked impatiently.

"I said you can take the pathfinder. As far as I know it's still at the bar, and my phone died so if Francine has laid any claim to it over the next few days I can play the 'I was in the hospital, I didn't get your text' card. So, you know, you can use it. To drive your stuff over."

"Oh. Ok. Thanks, I guess."

An awkward silence fell, interrupted only by the noises Lulu made as she suckled. Jenna got up and walked over to the window. There wasn't much of a view; just the parking lot and driveway out to the county road, but it was better than being forced to look at Jim.


	10. Chapter 10

Jenna stared through the windshield of the pathfinder at the hospital looming in front of her. _What was she thinking?_

At least ten days with Jim. Ten. And that was optimistic; the nurse said it could be two weeks before he would be ready to be off pain killers, and move around independently, and there was still physical therapy, and things like sitting and standing and grocery shopping and bathing… Just thinking about it made Jenna dizzy. She looked at the passenger seat beside her; she had gone to pick up his prescriptions for him, a brown paper bag filled with little orange pill bottles. There were the antibiotics for the surgery, and the painkillers for everything, and the blood-thinners to prevent clotting, and the anti-emetics to prevent nausea. The pharmacist had walked her through dosages and times of day and water and food and how to manage all of it, but her head was already swimming with all the post-op instructions; twenty three pages of them. What had she gotten herself into?

She had moved everything she figured she needed into his house. As she had lugged in her suitcase and Lulu's crib that morning, her heart had panged for Jim. The house was empty. Half the closet hollowed out, half the drawers in the master bathroom—yes, she had snooped—were empty besides a few spare bobby pins and a single lost earring. The kitchen was missing things, like glasses and silverware—Francine must have claimed them in her flight.

Jenna couldn't help but feel like a homewrecker. She had done that to Jim; and here she was moving in to the very house that she had ruined. Guilt clawed at her. Joe would have been so disappointed. _Two weeks._

She took a deep breath and pulled the pathfinder up to the doors, putting on the hazards so she could go in and get Jim. The nurses and attendants all waved at her jovially; she was sure her presence and the lack of a ring on her finger had led to much gossip in the small-town hospital.

Jim was sitting up in bed, breathing deeply with the nurse holding both his arms. He winced with every intake of air, his breaths shallow and raspy. A walker stood off to the side, yellow tennis balls adorning the rear feet. If Jim hadn't clearly been in pain, Jenna would have laughed. It was comical; she was so used to seeing little old ladies with the metallic walkers; this one looked amped up on steroids to fit Jim's six and half foot frame. Jim heard her breath catch as she prevented the laugh from forming and whipped around to look at her.

"Ouch! Shit!" he exclaimed, turning slowly back to the nurse.

"Didn't I tell you? No turning!" The nurse scolded him, but even as she did, a wry smile crinkled her eyes pleasantly. Of course, Jim had become a favorite on the ward in his time there. He had told Jenna during her pregnancy that he made a point of knowing all the nurses names for when he had their help during births. No doubt that had come in handy in his days spent bed-ridden.

"The car's out front," Jenna said weakly. She picked up his personal effects bag, and then could do nothing but watch uselessly as the nurse helped him stand and fixed his hands on the walker. He stood for a moment, looking down at his feet as though marveling at his ability to be upright.

"Well this isn't so hard!" he crowed. He lifted the walker and winced as it landed back on the ground, absorbing the impact in his stomach.

"Didn't I tell you? Use your arms! God put them there for a reason!" The nurse harangued Jim as he lifted the walker tentatively and tried again, this time gently setting it down and easing into leaning on it slowly.

"There's my boy," the nurse crossed her arms triumphantly. "Now what are you doing?" the nurse turned on Jenna abruptly. "Hold the door for the man!"

Jenna scrambled to turn and open the door, holding it wide and blushing bright red as Jim began the slow crawl towards her. His face was red as well—though not with embarrassment, just exertion from the effort of walking. It was clearly a lot for him.

The journey outside took over fifteen minutes—every step covering inches and requiring intricate coordination from Jim. The nurse walked with them, giving Jim elaborate praise as though every step was a triumph. At the car, she coached Jenna through grasping his sweaty arms and helping him lower himself into the passenger seat without bending over his torso too much. Then she helped Jenna fold and maneuver the walker into the back of the car. Jenna was immensely grateful for her help, but if she heard the words "good girl" spoken one more time, she was ready to turn around and clock the nurse right in the jaw. When she finally slammed the drivers door shut behind her, a beautiful silence filled the air.

They sat there for a moment, nothing but the sound of Jim's ragged breathing breaching the silence.

Then they laughed.

Jenna knew it was wrong; she knew that Jim had to be in pain, but she couldn't help it. Something about it all was just utterly hilarious; Jim's journey from hospital room to the car, the way the nurse had treated him like a child and her like a dog, even just sitting there in Jim's blue pathfinder, together. It was a massive laughter, bellowing, punctuated by Jim's occasional cries of "ow!" as he held his ribs and tried to stop.

"You'd think I was in the Olympics," he finally gasped, calming himself enough to form words. Jenna tried to do the same. One look at his face helped; he was positively green. A laugh like that was disastrous for him right now.

"Oh Jim, you're gonna bust a stitch!"

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, trying to stop himself, a tear rolling down his cheek with his mirth.

"Don't laugh! You can't have a pain pill for another two hours and I don't want you passing out on me before I can get you to the couch!"

"Ok. I promise. _Pinky_ promise." Jim held his pinky out and Jenna took it with her own, tapping their thumbs in the process to cement it. Even doing that made Jenna want to burst out laughing, but she bit her lip and turned the key in the ignition, starting off towards his house instead.

Jim flipped the radio on as Jenna navigated to his house, turning it to an old 90's station and pantomiming the lyrics. Jenna kept her eyes on the road in an effort to not laugh—after the tense few days in the hospital and the stress with Earl, seeing Jim high on painkillers was much needed stress relief.

The house was just as depressing as when Jenna had left. If anything, her suitcases sitting at the base of the stairs set off the disheartening atmosphere more; it looked like _she_ was the wife poised to flee.

There wasn't much time to pay attention to that, however, as she moved Jim into the family room. She hadn't been in there before, so as he took hobbling, slow steps over to the couch, she ran ahead and pushed pillows into place, giving him a nice incline to lean against. Once he had backed himself into position accordingly, Jenna gripped his arms and helped him sit, slowly. She could feel the muscles in his forearms quivering from exhaustion, just from the short walk from the car.

Once he was seated, it was another effort just to turn him so he could lie down, then reposition the pillows so he was comfortable. As Jenna helped him sit up so she could smash pillows down into the space behind his lower back, she marveled at how he smelled; definitely not clean, but somehow not bad either. How was that possible? The nurses had sponge-bathed him in the hospital, but he smelled musky and. . . _good_.

"Well, now I know why this was bad timing for the divorce," Jim muttered weakly when he finally came to rest on the couch.

"What?" Jenna asked.

"She took the tv," Jim nodded at the empty wall in front of him, where the tv mount still remained, empty. He was half joking, his face a mixture of disappointment and chagrin. Jenna chuckled.

"Tv rots your brain anyways. You're a doctor, you need all your brain cells."

Jenna fell into the mothering too easily, grabbing a blanket from the ottoman in front of the couch and airing it out before laying it over his body, tucking it around his feet. She bustled into the kitchen and grabbed one of the two glasses in the cabinet (both novelty beer glasses from different breweries that she assumed belonged to him), filling it with water and opening cabinets until she had discovered a box of plastic straws as well. She returned to the living room and, with one hand, pushed the table at the end of the couch into position next to it, so he had easy access to the water.

"Ok," she paused, assessing the situation. "I'll grab your pills right now and set a timer for the next few dosages. Are you feeling nauseous? They said movement could make that worse; I'll bring in the ondansetron with your other stuff, so you have it just in case. Can I get you anything?"

Jim shot her one of his looks from the bed. "I really don't need all this, Jenna."

"Did we not agree on rules?" Jenna crossed her arms and then realized how she was towering above him. Her face softened and she sat on the ottoman, looking him in the eye. "Let's be honest with ourselves for a second," she began. "You have complained at every step of the way about me helping you out, but you have yet to offer a suggestion—and I mean a real suggestion," she said, cutting off his interruption, "not just the nurses at the hospital. I know you. You're liberal, and smart, and you never would have moved here if it weren't for your wife's—I mean, Francine's—residency. This isn't the kind of place a guy like you makes friends at. And that's fine and all, but it means you should stop complaining about me being here."

"My lack of friends isn't your problem, Jenna. I have insurance, I can afford the nurses."

"This is my problem. And I've already made it clear that it's not up for debate. I'm here, unless you're truly revolted by that." She peered at him through her eyelashes.

"You know I'm not—I mean, I could never—"

"Good." Jenna cut him off. "Now, can I get you a book? After I grab the pain meds, I mean. I need to call Dawn too and have her bring Lulu, and some things I forgot."

"There's a book on the side table in my bedroom, could you grab that? After that I'm fine, I don't need a thing. You can use the pathfinder too, go and get Lulu or whatever you need."

"I'll grab your book. And Dawn already has Lulu at the diner, she's just waiting on me to call to bring her by. My other stuff is already there."

Jenna stood and smoothed out her dress—she needed to change that too, she'd been in it for two days, but that was low on the list. As she set off to the kitchen to get his meds, Jim's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

"I mean it. About the pathfinder. You can use it whenever you need. And my wallet is in the personal effects bag, please use the credit card in there to buy groceries."

"I have money, Jim. I'm not broke."

"Jenna," he looked at her and Jenna had to look away.

"Ok. Fine. I'll use it for groceries."

He released her without a thanks—apparently that would be taking it too far.

Jenna got to the kitchen and paused while pulling the pill bottles and organizers out of the brown paper bag. Her hands were shaking, the brown paper rustling slightly as her hands quivered. Why was she shaking? She couldn't imagine.

She opened the pill organizer boxes and partitioned out the dosages for his pain meds and antibiotics. She found an old kitchen timer stuck with a magnet to the fridge and set it so that it would go off for his next dose. She opened the orange bottle with the ondansetron packets inside—the anti-emetics, for if he got nauseous—and withdrew a sheaf of packets. She was about to return to the living room when she realized she hadn't grabbed his book. She turned on her heel and climbed the stairs up to the second floor.

The master bedroom was just like she left it—just the one half of the bed messed up, smelling of his deodorant. There was only one book on the nightstand; a well-loved copy of _The Soul of the Physician_. Jenna grabbed it and returned to the living room.

Jim was snoring, fast asleep. Jenna sat on the ottoman and looked at him. The walk out of the hospital and then into the house must have exhausted him.

She looked down at the book in her hands. Nearly every page was dog-eared, the hard cover bent in one corner. At some point, coffee had clearly been spilled on it and the pages at the top wrinkled accordingly in a wavy pattern. He must love this book. A leather book mark was stuck in about two thirds of the way through.

"Ok Jim, let's see, what were you reading?" She flipped the book open to the page marked by the bookmark and smiled to herself. It was the beginning of a section, with one word printed in massive characters on the page: _Resilience_. Leave it to Jim to turn to medical novels for emotional support.

Jenna flipped the page and began reading aloud, quietly. She murmured the words to Jim, familiarizing herself with the crooning sound of her own voice. Soon, Lulu would be able to appreciate this kind of thing. It was good practice, really. Plus, when she spoke, Jim's face would flicker—just for a moment—into a small grin. Just a little upward flinch at the corner of his mouth, a little bit of a crease around his eyes. It looked peaceful. It made Jenna want to keep reading.

* * *

 **Ok I'm starting to realize what a hole I've fallen into with the plot here; let me just apologize now for another "somebody gets injured and their love interest is 'forced' to care for them" trope of a fanfiction. It wasn't my intent going in but it's where the story kind of led me to so I followed and now I guess we're here. I hope the voice of the characters is still hitting you guys right and can potentially salvage the story from the awful black hole the plot has gone into. Anyways.**

 **Thanks to everybody who has read so far; I guess by virtue of being the first waitress fic on the site I shouldn't have expected many readers, but I'm still shocked at how low the numbers are compared to my Dear Evan Hansen fic. I won't post this on Wattpad or AO3 so I guess I shouldn't expect much. Thank you to those of you who have read so far, please feel free to favorite/leave a review! As of yet it feels kind of like I'm sending this out to the void and that isn't the greatest feeling.**


	11. Chapter 11

"Did you not bring the breast pump?" Jenna peered into the tote bag hanging on Dawn's tiny frame, filled with Lulu's clothes and bottles but lacking the pump that Jenna had come to rely on for keeping her baby fed and happy and her breasts soreness free.

"Oh shucks!" Dawn snapped her fingers. "I can run and grab it real quick, it's no trouble really."

"Dawn, you look exhausted," Jenna scanned her friend up and down as she spoke. "You've been taking care of my baby for entirely too long and working and that's a lot. Jim's conked out on the couch, how about you put Lulu down and take a nap yourself? I can run back to the house and grab the pump. I forgot a few other things as well."

"Are you sure?" Dawn asked.

"Positive." Jenna smiled and began up the stairs with Lulu in her arms. "Follow me! I'll show you the guest room."

After getting Dawn and Lulu both settled, Jenna checked one more time on Jim, who was still sleeping soundly in the living room. She grabbed the keys to the pathfinder from the kitchen and set out to Dawn and Ogie's house.

She felt strangely content. Having Jim to care for and Dawn so invested in helping her with Lulu and Becky back in her life—she had felt so alone and useless for the last two months, but she really hadn't needed to feel like that. The strange cold, empty feeling was still there, lurking under the surface, but in the moment Jenna felt needed, important, and satisfied.

She pulled up on the street outside of the house and opened her purse as she walked to the door, digging around in the mess inside for her keys. She was standing there at the door rooting through napkins and lipstick tubes when his voice took her by surprise.

"So you shacked up with the gyno, huh?"

Jenna jumped about two feet in the air and turned around frantically. Earl was about ten feet away, swaying in place. Clearly drunk, and pissed as hell.

"Earl, you better turn around and walk away right this second if you know what's good for you." Jenna hated the quaver in her voice. The fear.

"You never loved me. You never loved anybody but yourself." He staggered closer as he spoke, having to shuffle to keep his balance.

"Earl, how can you show your face here after what you did to Jim?" Jenna hadn't found the keys in her purse, and she clutched her fingers into a fist inside, her heart racing. With another step, Earl lurched in front of her.

"Jim," Earl sneered. His breath stank of liquor so strongly Jenna's eyes began to water. Suddenly, he pounded the door behind her, bringing his face inches from her own. Jenna flinched, closing her eyes and turning her face aside.

"Look at me," Earl breathed at her, grabbing her cheeks with his hand and turning her to face him.

"Let me go, Earl," Jenna breathed, the words warped by his hand squeezing her face.

"Say it. Say you never loved me."

Jenna winced as his breath washed over her again, tried to turn her head in his grasp. She sealed her lips, not speaking. She couldn't. She felt his eyes on her, his bleary, bloodshot eyes, filled with that revolting mix of longing and loathing.

The hand gripping her face let go. She braced herself, ready for the blow she knew was coming, that had come so many times before.

Instead, nothing. The breeze blew over Jenna's face—her eyes still closed—as Earl's looming shadow left. She opened her eyes and he stood there, five feet away, leering at her. He surveyed her body and Jenna felt hot shame surge through her.

"I don't want you anyways. You got fat with that baby. Not worth it. Not even for your boobies." He fixed his eyes on them as he spoke, then lurched backwards a step. With a whirling turn, he was gone, veering side-to-side down the driveway, like a bumper car.

Jenna's knees gave out beneath her and she slumped down to the ground, sitting on the stoop. She held her hands out in front of her and watched them shake. They didn't seem attached to the rest of her body, floating in her vision. Time seemed to slow down as she sat there. The feel of her tears rolling slowly down her cheeks and landing on her palms kept her tied to her body—she didn't feel present.

"Jenna?"

Jenna flinched on the stoop and looked away from her hands. Ogie stood in the opened door of his car, the engine still running in the driveway. He looked at her curiously, concern written all over his face.

"Oh, hi Ogie!" Jenna tried to contort her features into a smile appropriate of greeting him.

"Jenna, what's wrong?"

Ogie came around the door of his car and was kneeling in front of her in a moment. Jenna realized her cheeks were still tear-stained, her hands still held out in front of her. They looked like doll hands, the fingers all extended straight, frozen in front of her. Were the arms even hers? She didn't feel like she could know.

"Jenna? Jenna, you gotta tell me what happened."

"Ogie." Jenna said the name throatily, remembering who was in front of her. "Ogie."

"Yeah Jenna, it's me. What's going on? Why are you just sitting here? Did something happen to you?"

"Oh Ogie," Jenna sobbed. She put her head in her hands and the tears came again. The fingers were cold, clammy and dry on her cheeks.

Ogie didn't say anything, remaining knelt in front of her. As Jenna cried, she slowly came back to herself. What must he be thinking?

"Ogie, I'm so sorry," she gasped. "I'm ok."

"Jenna, shh, just breath. It's ok. Take a moment. I'm right here."

He shifted and sat on the stoop next to her and Jenna leaned her head on his shoulder as she calmed her breathing and re-entered her own mind. Once she felt like her knees wouldn't give out, she stood up and dusted herself off.

"Whoa whoa, what are you doing?" Ogie asked, shooting up next to her.

"I just came to grab some things for Lulu, I left Dawn at Jim's house with him and Lulu, I have to get back."

"Now Jenna, you are not going to leave without telling me what was happening right there!" Ogie tried to sound commanding, but with his high-pitched voice it was almost comical.

"It was nothing."

"Was not." Ogie stuck his chin out.

"Earl showed up. He was drunk, I was just frightened."

"How long was he here for? Did he do this?" Ogie held out his hand and grazed Jenna's cheek. She winced and pulled away. She hadn't known it had bruised.

"Yeah but it's fine. He's gone now."

"He's done this before. He's been doing this, since that first time I mean. You've been hiding it," Ogie said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, but it's no biggie. He's just dealing. He'll get over it."

"It's been months, Jenna. He's had months. And putting Jim in the hospital? And this—" he pointed at her cheeks, where Earl must have bruised her with his grasp, "this isn't getting over it. This is assault."

"It's fine, Ogie."

"No, it's really not. I'm calling the police."

"Ogie please—"

"Jenna! I will not stand by and watch you let this man abuse you! Who's next? Lulu? Who do you care about enough to make him stop? Dawn? Becky? Why not yourself?"

Jenna froze, staring at Ogie panting in front of her, out of breath with rage. He was right, too. She had urged Jim to press charges. Why wouldn't she? _Because you don't deserve it_. Jenna tried to shake the thought from her brain, but it clung there, heavy.

"C'mon. Get in my car and I'll drive you down to the station." Ogie put a hand gently on Jenna's shoulder and she flinched. He raised an eyebrow at her and Jenna let the resistance fall away, meekly following him down to his car.

* * *

 **Ok hi guys! Sorry about the long wait between updates; my school year is winding down and I've slightly over-extended myself in terms of commitments so writing is hard.**

 **That said, I have some bad-ish news: my summer job is heavy on time commitment and low on internet connectivity; it is entirely possible that the next update on this story won't come until September. By all means please continue reading, following and reviewing; I am not quitting on it, but realistically I cannot promise any sort of regular update to y'all. And for that, I'm sorry. I will finish the story, but likely in a more belated fashion than the other story I have published on here (which is a DEH fic I'd recommend y'all check out if you're missing my writing in the mean time).**

 **Thank you so much for reading and following and reviewing, I love y'all and can't wait to share the next episode of Jenna's life, however far in the future it may be!**


	12. Chapter 12

The only thing keeping Jenna tethered to the ground as she walked out of the police station was Becky's hand, gripping her arm tightly, holding her there.

"Those no-good donut-eating useless sacks of shit," Becky muttered next to her, tugging Jenna along over the pavement. "What will it take? He nearly killed Jim, do _you_ have to end up in the hospital too?"

Jenna blankly turned to look at Becky, barely comprehending the words out of her mouth.

The police had acted like she was making it all up. Like it had never happened. Like she was some dramatic, self-centered girl who was going through a bad break-up and wanted to drag her poor ex-husband through the mud. Jenna's chin wobbled as she flashed back to the interrogation room—they had actually put her in an interrogation room, one-way-mirror and everything—and how the cops had looked at her, so condescending. She shivered.

"Oh Jenna, I'm so sorry. Look at me, completely forgetting myself," Becky turned to Jenna and squeezed her arm even harder in apology. They finally reached the car and Becky opened Jenna's door for her, helping her sit and buckling her in like a child. When had Jenna become so useless?

"We'll just get you home and in bed and you can sleep this off like a bad dream," Becky promised once she had gotten into the drivers seat of her car—Ogie had gone to get Dawn and check on Lulu once Becky had arrived at the police station. Like parents with custody of a child. Jenna sure felt like one.

"No." Jenna replied petulantly.

"Sorry, what?" Becky hit the brake a little too hard in her surprise at Jenna's answer. Jenna turned to face her and took in her friend's face; sunspotted, overweight, with powdery foundation a shade too dark.

"Take me to Jim's."

"Now Jenna, you've been through the wringer today, and if you can't get a restraining order against Earl who knows where he'll show up next time. Dr. Pomatter can take care—"

"Jim's. Please." Jenna turned to face the front of the car, trying to stop her chin from wobbling. No more tears.

"Jenna, you're doing that thing you do where you self-sacrifice until you're positively worn into the mud, and you've got a baby to take care of. Don't let this man be another burden on you now."

Jenna didn't respond.

"Fine. If you're sure," Becky relented.

They passed the drive in silence, Jenna shoving the tears and painful thoughts down into her chest. The cops were right; she should have never gone to them in the first place. She shouldn't have left Earl. He was right in thinking she didn't deserve better than him. What a mess.

"Now Jenna," Becky broke the silence as the pulled into Jim's driveway, noticing Jenna's hand already on the handle. "You have to promise me something."

"What is it, Becky?"

"Don't you go using this man as a band-aid to fix the hurts that Earl gave you. You get better on your own, ok?"

"I already told you, I'm not with him. I won't be."

"Mmhm. Whatever you say."

Jenna opened the door and left before she could see the disapproving look she knew would be all over Becky's face.

Inside, there was a note on the island in the kitchen. It read: "Dear Jenna, we took Lulu and the milk you pumped home. Hope that was ok. We'll bring her back tomorrow morning. Wasn't sure what the timer system on Jim's meds was, so we left some out by him for when he woke up. Love you! Xoxo Dawn and Ogie"

Jenna read the note twice, her head still foggy from the ordeal at the police station. Then it clicked. She was supposed to wake Jim up to take his pain meds—if she didn't, he'd wale up too late and be in immeasurable pain. She grabbed the timer sitting on the counter: all of the different clocks were blinking at zero. He was past due for all his meds.

She tip-toed into the living room and sat on the ottoman next to him. He hadn't shifted since she had left him, lying there like a zombie, one dried trail of drool coming out the corner of his mouth. She gently scraped at it with her thumbnail, then brushed it off. His eyes fluttered a few times before opening slowly. Jenna watched, suspended. Then he groaned.

"Shh, I know it hurts. You're overdue on your pain meds. I'm so sorry. Here," she twisted open the pill bottle and dispensed one with a shaking hand, proffering the glass of water with the pink bendy straw to him as well. He swallowed with great difficulty, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. One of his hands shot out and grabbed Jenna's, squeezing tightly.

"Please don't go," he whispered, his teeth gritted.

"I won't. I'm so sorry Jim, something happened and I got caught away and Ogie didn't know to wake you."

"It's k," Jim whispered wanly. Little beads of sweat began to form on his brow, forming tiny crystals.

He continued to squeeze Jenna's hand. She didn't know what to say.

"Earl?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Jenna replied. She worked her thumb free from his iron grip and began rubbing it in gentle circles on the back of his hand, trying to distract him from the pain.

"He won't stop," Jim whispered.

"Shh, it's ok. Not your problem."

"No. Yours."

"Exactly. Mine." Jenna whispered. Jim's brow furrowed and the color left his face, leaving him a pale green color.

"Are you going to throw up, Jim?"

"Maybe."

"Here," Jenna pulled her hand free and grabbed the packet of ondansetron she had left on the table, popping one tab open. "Put this beneath your tongue and let it dissolve. It'll stop the nausea."

Jim took the tiny pill with a shaking hand and placed it in his mouth. He reached out then and took Jenna's hand once more, squeezing tightly.

"You're going to be ok, Jim. This will pass, and you can get out of this house and this town and go somewhere new and exciting. You can start over. You can find some girl who knows nothing about you and whisk her off her feet and whirl her around and fall in love with her. You can deliver babies every day and watch them grow up and know that you did that. You can escape. All of this will just be some distant memory to you." Jenna choked up as she whispered, imagining the life Jim might have. It was so exciting and full of possibility. She wouldn't get to see it, though.

"Come with me," Jim whispered.

"What?"

"Come. With. Me. Let's start over."

"Jim, we said we weren't going to talk about this."

"Not dating. We both need fresh starts," Jim paused, breathing deeply for a few moments. "I'll get a house. You can stay with me, wherever I am. Til you open your pie shop. Get your apartment. Fall in love. I can watch Lulu. We can move to a strange city but know that at least one other person isn't a stranger."

"Jim—"

"Shh," he squeezed her hand before releasing it. "Don't say no. Just consider. Please. Be kind to yourself."

Because that's who he was. Sitting there, in more pain than she could imagine, all because she had promised to take care of him and failed to follow through. And he still thought she wasn't kind to herself.

* * *

 **Ok so I quit my summer job. Fortunately for you guys, that means more updates! Woohoo! I've been on a writing blast over the past few days (lots of strong emotions from leaving my job means lots of emotional outletting lol) so I have a few chapters written for this and will probably have the rest up in quick succession. Also just as an fyi, the rating is going to be bumped to M tomorrow, so please follow if you don't know how to work the search filters rating-wise!**

 **A big thank you to all of you who have liked and reviewed this story, even knowing it was going to be a long hiatus between updates. Getting an email from with a new review is like having my birthday. I live for it. Y'all are awesome, enjoy!**


	13. Chapter 13

Jenna rolled onto her side, then her back, then her other side. No position was comfortable. Sleep evaded her.

The past two days had been strangely serene, yet painfully awkward. Jenna had maintained a cool distance from Jim. Whenever the timer would go off, she would head downstairs and dispense whatever medication was needed, reset the timer, then retreat back up the safety of the stairs. Dawn had brought Lulu back the morning after the Earl fiasco, and Jim had asked to play with her a few times. Jenna always acquiesced, retrieving her from the portable crib upstairs and bringing her down. They slept together a lot, Jim and Lulu, Jim on his back in typical zombie fashion, Lulu tucked between him and the couch on his right side. Sometimes, Jenna would hear Jim's murmured voice through the walls; she figured he was reading his book out loud, so Lulu could hear. Eventually Jenna just brought the crib down and made the living room Lulu's home base; her baby loved Jim.

Jenna didn't talk much to him. Every time they interacted, he had a knowing look, as if he knew his offer was inside her mind, eating away at her. Whenever she made him toast or brought him water or re-puffed his pillows and tucked his blanket, she felt like she lost a little bit more ground. Every time she took his hands to help him stand up or sit down, she nonchalantly tried to ignore the electricity she felt there, the painful, vivid excitement. She refused to meet his eyes, but she could feel them fixed on her, not condescending, but intense, feeling the same things she was. She had helped him take his first shower the day before, sitting on the toilet facing away from him to give him privacy while simultaneously being on call in case he fell or passed out. He sang the entire time, his rich tenor filling her ears and forcing the corners of her mouth into a smile. He started with some Billy Joel, then moved to The Drifters and Beegees. Each new song had Jenna reminiscing, remembering whirling around the kitchen with her Mama while they baked pies together. His crooning voice felt like home; the peaceful, unassuming way he sang just for pleasure. Jenna hated it.

Everything Becky had said was true. She couldn't let this man be a band-aid. She couldn't let herself move with him to a strange new place because she would surely fall in love and that would mean jumping from life under Earl to depending wholly on Jim. And while she knew Jim was nothing like Earl, what kind of example would she be setting for Lulu, always needing some man around to lean on? This no-name town was one thing, but in some big city, working at a big hospital full of other doctors and nurses and people who had actually done something with their life, Jim was bound to meet some smart, kind woman who he would fall in love with. And then what would Jenna be, with her baby and her pies? Nothing; out on the street, abandoned because he had found better. She belonged here. The diner was a fine place to work, and at least people appreciated her pies. Plus Dawn and Becky were close, and Jenna knew she couldn't survive without them. Leaving would be idiotic; so why couldn't Jenna stop thinking about it?

Lying there, staring at the beige wall in front of her bed, Jenna groaned. This would be her first night actually getting a chance to sleep. Jim was weaning off his pain pills and could handle the doses by himself now without her help. Lulu was with him as well; somehow, she could sleep through nearly an entire night if she was curled under his arm, and he claimed to love having her next to him. Her bottle was down there too, so Jim could handle a night time feeding. Baby fed, meds handled, no doctors appointments or physical therapy the next morning; it was perfect. Jenna could actually sleep. If she were able. Which she wasn't. Tossing and turning in bed, her mind flipped and fumbled until it landed on one thing: pie. She needed to bake. Without a second thought, she flipped the sheet off her sweaty body and stood.

She tip-toed down to the kitchen and began rustling around for ingredients. Besides the groceries she had bought for the last few days, all Jim had was a couple of cans of beans and tuna, a loaf of bread with a few slices missing that was already growing big green patches of mold, some half-finished spices and a nearly empty tin of baking soda. How did he live?

"Well this simply won't do," Jenna muttered to herself. She walked to the living room and peeked in at Jim and her daughter. Lulu was rosy-cheeked, one fist pressed to her face, the other clamped around Jim's thumb. Jim was smiling wide, whether in reaction to Lulu or a particularly good dream, Jenna couldn't know. He hadn't shaved since the incident, and the scruff on his cheeks gave him a slightly aged look—no longer boyish, but like a man.

Jenna shook herself and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the keys to the pathfinder from the counter. It was after midnight, so she'd have to go to the next town over to use the twenty-four hour grocery store. Ingredients were stirring around her mind, calling to her.

There was something pleasing about the super market late at night, and Jenna took her time perusing the aisles, adding not only what she needed for the pies, but some other basic staples for them to have for the next few days. She hummed as she shopped, picking her favorite items and concocting the pie in her mind.

When she returned home, she checked on Jim and Lulu again. Neither had moved, the same blissful smiles still in place.

Jenna set to work in the dark kitchen, moving about silently, whisking and rolling and beating and measuring. As she watched the parts come together, Jenna felt as though she could breathe again. Sugar and butter and flour combined and soothed her—as the kitchen grew warmer with the oven preheating, Jenna began to sweat. It felt purifying and liberating. The last two months were a grey haze in her mind, one big jumble of words and thoughts with no punctuation—no pies. Why hadn't she baked? Jenna wiped a flour-coated hand across her sweaty brow and concentrated—she had done so little, but it had seemed so insurmountable. What had been so hard? Not Lulu.

Jenna walked quickly to the living room while the stove heated a double boiler for melting chocolate and peeked in on her baby. She had curled up against Jim, still clutching his finger with one hand, and sucking on her thumb on the other. The pink in her cheeks made Jenna's heart thrum with pleasure.

Was it Earl? Jenna dumped the chopped chocolate bits in the double boiler and called his face into her mind. It made her think of fear and loneliness, but none of that penetrated the grey haze in her mind. Becky and Dawn hadn't been there—well, physically they had, but they weren't in the world Jenna had crafted in her mind that had knocked her down. So what had? Jenna stirred the chocolate ferociously. The act of making the pie rolled the haze away from her, cleared her mind and her thoughts and left her free to imagine better things.

When the pie was in the oven, she leaned against the counter for a rest, itching her nose with a flour-covered finger. How had she gone without this for two months? Her blood coursed with the thrill of creating something new and delicious.

"You're back."

Jenna jumped and turned to the doorway. Jim stood there, leaning on his walker, a bathrobe hanging on his lanky frame.

"I swear to god Jim—"

"Shh, Lulu's still sleeping." Jim turned and glanced behind him back into the living room. He must have placed her in her crib. He was too responsible to leave her on the couch, even if she was asleep.

"You frightened me!" Jenna whispered loudly. "And tell me you didn't bend over to put that baby in the crib, I will not have you popping a stitch on me, not at this hour!" Jim crossed slowly over to her. He was better with the walker now, but his steps were still ginger, his abdomen still sore.

"Sorry," he whispered, peering into the different bowls that contained the leftover elements of the filling. "What's this one called?" he asked.

"It's new. I'm calling it 'What to fondue' pie," Jenna whispered. She blushed as soon as she said it. It sounded stupid out loud. Jim just grinned though, reaching out and plucking a piece of banana from one of the bowls. He didn't say a word, waiting for Jenna to tell him what was inside. She hesitated, embarrassed, but continued.

"It's going to have a vanilla custard, topped with fruit and marshmallows and other stuff you'd dip into fondue, and then topped with a dark chocolate ganache," she whispered.

"You made all of this tonight?" Jim glanced at the various bowls scattered around, then at the clock, his eyes widening. "I guess so, given that time," he muttered. Then he said something else, that Jenna couldn't quite hear.

"What was that?" she whispered as she reached past him to settle a strawberry that almost overflowed from the bowl, her shoulder brushing against his.

"I said it's the witching hour," Jim repeated, whispering into Jenna's ear. A shiver passed down her spine, giving her goosebumps and freezing her in place. She turned slowly to face him, only inches away.

The bruises on his face were terrifying. The stitches had settled in, no longer looking like they stretched the skin, but the mottled red color around them was disconcerting. The scruff she had thought earlier made him look manly was peppered with grey hairs, she could see now up close. The street light outside only dimly lit the room, and Jenna was surprised how much depth it gave to Jim's eyes. They were green, and filled with so much sadness Jenna's heart broke. What had they done to each other?

The timer on the oven went off, beeping in the quiet room. It sounded like a gunshot.

It was only then that Jenna realized how close they'd gotten, how their lips were millimeters apart. Ready to brush and blow up the delicate balance she'd created in her mind. She yanked away and Jim tripped, clinging to his walker for balance.

"That'll be the pie," Jenna whispered, crossing past Jim to the oven to pull it out. "Gotta put the fruit and marshmallows on, let it broil for a minute and add the ganache, then put it in the freezer to set," she used a dish towel to pull the hot pie from the oven, setting it on the stove and moving past Jim again to grab the fruit and ganache. She set the pot of ganache to warm up on a burner behind the pie, then began arranging the fruit on top in a decorative fashion. She could feel her cheeks flaming red and her heart pounding in her chest as she worked. Jim didn't move, standing in the tiny kitchen space with her. She could feel him watching her, but she refused to look at him. She couldn't.

She used the dish towel to put the pie back in the oven and stood there, watching it broil. She could feel his eyes on her back, travelling over her body.

"Jenna," Jim whispered behind her. Jenna ignored him.

The marshmallows puffed up and turned golden brown and began to melt down around the fruit, exactly how Jenna wanted them to. She opened the oven, pulling the pie out again and setting it on the stove. She stirred the pot of ganache before lifting it, pouring a steady stream over the pie, concentrating on getting an even spread and making sure it didn't overflow.

"Jenna," Jim whispered again. Jenna ignored him.

She smoothed out the ganache and used a spatula to scrape the last bits from the pot. She used the dish towel to carry it one more time and get it settled in the nearly empty freezer, then closed the door, leaning her forehead against it.

The kitchen was silent. Jenna could hear Jim breathe, the ticking of the oven as it settled, the hum of the freezer as it cooled her creation. She could hear her own heart pound, in her ears and throat and everywhere. She could hear her thoughts whistling through her mind, a million miles a minute.

She whirled around and kissed him.

He leaned back in surprise and she grabbed the walker, pushing down on it to keep them balanced. They paused, and for a moment Jenna feared that she had made some horrible mistake—an even bigger mistake than she already knew it was. Then he leaned forward, into the kiss, overpowering her. Jenna had to stand on her tiptoes, he was so tall, even with the walker. Jenna felt one of his hands weave into her hair, strong and sure, grasping the nape of her neck. His scruff scratched her cheeks a little. Rainbow lights lit up behind her eyes, every nerve on fire in her skin. The clothes on her body became heavy and gravity re-oriented, pulling her towards Jim, into his orbit.

Eventually, she pulled away, breathless. They looked at each other, the dim street lamp throwing deep shadows under their faces.

"Jenna," he whispered again, mouth still open. He reached a finger up and gently brushed his lips, as though disbelieving.

She loved it. She hated it.

She hated how deliberate it was, as they silently maneuvered him up the stairs, somehow agreeing that they weren't going to stay in the living room. She hated how carefully she helped him sit on his side of the lonely bed, shoving cushions behind him to help him stay upright. She hated how she set herself atop him, careful not to crush his ribs or tear his stitches. How slow and meticulous and planned it all had to be—no claiming spontaneity. She hated kissing him, how similar it felt to a drink of water after being stranded in the desert. How it felt like she could finally breathe, with him tracing his lips up and down her neck. How delicate she was, removing his pants and shirt and her clothes without disrupting his balance. She hated the thrill that travelled up her spine when he looked at her naked. How the stretch marks on her stomach seemed as appealing as the curve of her breast to him. She hated looking at him, battered and bruised and all because of her. She hated how it felt like home once he was inside her. How the gentle noises he made cut her down to her soul and left her bare and empty. How every motion had to be calculated, so she wouldn't hurt him more than he already was. She hated how, no matter how careful she was, she'd hurt him anyways.


	14. Chapter 14

Jenna slid from the bed to the ground carefully so as not to disrupt Jim. He lay there, still propped up on a pile of pillows, sleeping peacefully. Jenna marveled at how he could do that—just lie there in one position for hours like a total zombie. She always tossed and turned through the night, alternating between overheating and freezing and waking herself up with awful night terrors. Come to think of it, this was the best she'd slept in a long time. Shame quickly ate away that thought before it could continue.

Jenna could hear Lulu's squalls from downstairs, but she still paused to check the stitches on Jim's abdomen—none broken, thank god. Enough guilt was racking Jenna already, she couldn't bear it if she had ripped his stitches too, in her crazy, horny rush at him. Even the bruising looked better, yellowing around the edges, with the nasty redness fading to a more typical purply blue.

Downstairs, Lulu was hungry. Jenna got her settled in a sling at her breast and set about carrying her and the crib back up to the now empty guest room. Trying to navigate setting the crib down in the darkened room, Jenna tripped over something. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her sore toe while Lulu suckled. It was only after Lulu was finished and burped and laid back down to sleep in her crib that Jenna bent over and picked up the offending toe-stubber. It was a tote bag filled with some things from home—Dawn must have packed it and brought it back on that day with the Earl thing.

Jenna rustled about in the bag and came up with the baby monitors. If she were smart, she would curl up in this bed right here with her baby and be the responsible, independent mother she should be.

But it _was_ Jim's first night back in the bed—through whatever means he had gotten there—and if he slid off the edge of the pillows, he could seriously hurt himself. Plus, he might be confused if he woke up and she wasn't there.

Jenna could feel the flimsiness of the argument tickling at her, but it didn't stop her from unwinding the cord on the baby monitor and setting it on the bedside table, near Lulu. She felt almost giddy as she tip-toed down the hallway back to Jim's room, unwrapping the cord on the other monitor and setting it on the bedside table on her side. She couldn't think of it as Francine's or she would start crying or come to her senses and leave.

She slid beneath the sheets slowly, trying not to move them and wake Jim. She didn't want him to know she had made the choice to come back after leaving once.

"I meant what I said," Jim whispered. Jenna barely even jumped—she was used to it at this point.

"What?" she whispered with trepidation. She should have stayed in bed. Her toes warmed at the thought of him realizing she had wanted to be next to him.

"Come away with me."

Jenna lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling in the darkened room. Her ears buzzed with her pulse, catching sounds that didn't exist. She could feel the weight of Jim's longing pulling at her. Shecurled on her side, facing away from him. Maybe he'd think she'd fallen asleep and didn't hear him or something. That would be best.

* * *

The squalling on the baby monitor woke her. She sat up abruptly. Jim was gone. Or not gone, but already standing, using the walker to slowly traverse the bedroom to the door.

"Jim, I can handle it. She's my child."

"Shh, stay in bed."

"What if she's hungry? You can't take care of that."

"You fed her an hour and a half ago. She's not hungry. She probably wet her diaper or just needs to be soothed. I've got it. Sleep."

Jenna recoiled slightly at his tone. She couldn't blame him; she had ignored him. He wanted this life with her and the fact that he couldn't understand why she said no didn't make it any less hurtful.

She sat there in silence, listening to him on the baby monitor as he entered the guest room.

"Hi Lulu!" he said cheerfully. "What's up? A bit fussy, aren't we? Give me a moment, I'm not as fast as I used to be. You probably don't remember that, slightly before your time. Well, you were there, but not exactly—how should I say this—cognizant? I was pretty speedy, once upon a time. Ok let's have a sniff here. . . hoo boy! You've got a stinky one. Let's get you cleaned up. Now, isn't this dresser a nice height for this? I'm kind of tall, in case you didn't notice. I guess everybody must seem tall to you, what with the whole baby thing and all that. But this dresser happens to be perfect, because I don't have to bend over to reach you, and bending over too much right now could be a bit of a disaster. And yes, I know what you're thinking; I did bend over to reach into your crib and get you. Don't worry about it. One or two bends per day won't kill me. It'll just hurt a bit. You know how it goes. I'm used to that, at this point. Yeah. Wow. You have sure got some _volume_ in you. What have you been eating? Beans? You gotta steer clear, kid, they'll mess you up for days. Let me just get this wipe warmed up—I know a cold wipe can't feel any sort of good at this ungodly hour. . ."

He kept prattling on in a gentle, lulling voice, cooing at Lulu throughout the entire diaper change. When he finished, Jenna listened to him begin to soothe Lulu back to sleep. There were a few moments of silence where Jenna figured he had set the baby in her crib, but then she heard him begin to sing.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird won't sing, Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring. . ."

Jenna found it hard to breathe suddenly, sitting there on the bed, listening to his voice through the fuzzy connection of the baby monitor. He didn't know she could hear him. Maybe he was just singing the old lullaby, but when the notes hit her something strange flipped in her stomach. Something wet was on her shirt, and with a start, she realized it was tears. She curled into herself, lying on her side and listening to the voice of the man she so desperately wished was the father of her child. Could he possibly want that too?

Jim came back into the room slowly. Jenna didn't rise to help him get back into the bed, afraid he'd see her tear-stained face. He was slow to lower himself, having to leverage his weight against the walker. Jenna listened to him let out a quiet "oomph!" as he settled, the discomfort obvious in his voice.

The air was tense and awkward. They both knew the other was awake, but neither broke the silence. Jenna could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the damp pillow on her cheek.

"Jim?" she asked quietly, her voice thick and raspy with the tears.

Silence. Jenna began to doubt herself, unsure. The ache in her heart turned from longing to shame.

"What?" he asked.

Jenna didn't turn over, couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Ok," she said.

He didn't speak. Neither did she.

"Why? Was it the sex? Cause I can't imagine it was very good." His voice was wry.

"No."

"Then what?"

Jenna paused, still afraid to turn and look at him. The air felt thick and solid. She was afraid if she spoke, her words might not cross the space to him.

"Lulu," she finally breathed. "It's like she's already yours."

He didn't reply for a long moment. Then: "It feels like she is."

Jenna finally turned over, sitting up and looking at him. He was facing the ceiling, lying back against the pillows, a fat tear rolling down his cheek.

"Oh Jim, what's wrong?" Jenna scooched over carefully and used her sleeve to wipe the tear away.

"I thought you didn't want me. I thought you'd take her, and I didn't know if I'd see her—or you—again. I don't know."

Jenna wanted to tell him then—tell him that she would only go if it was platonic, if they were friends and nothing else. But she didn't. Because she did want it. She wanted every inch of it: to sleep next to him every night, to bake him pies and have his children and watch him play with them. They'd live in their very own Stanton Grove somewhere very, very far away, and Earl would be a distant memory and maybe they could go on vacations sometimes, and Jenna could volunteer on the PTSA at school and Lulu could play soccer or ride horses or sing and dance or do whatever her little heart desired. Jenna wanted it all. And she wanted it with Jim. And however wrong it may be by anybody else's standards—including her own—they could go suck it.

"I want you," she whispered. The words were filled with meaning, but still somehow sounded weak to her. Jenna took a deep breath and puffed herself up, trying to breath in confidence from the heavy air around them. "Jim Pomatter. Wherever you go for the rest of your life, if you agree to have me, I will follow."

Jim turned to look at her, his mouth dropping open with surprise. Jenna leaned on one elbow and smiled tentatively at him. Already it felt so good, waves of relief coursing over her body. Even the house around them seemed to warm a degree or two, though that could be the way Jim was looking at her.

"It would be really helpful to me," Jim rasped, then cleared his throat, "if you were to move a bit closer. See, I just had surgery a few days ago and I'm not too good on the leaning front, but it might be worth popping a stitch or two right now if it meant getting to kiss you."

Jenna giggled—truly giggled, like a little girl—before closing the distance between them.

Jim did end up popping a stitch that night, but even as Jenna bounced a screaming Lulu on her hip in the ER while the doctor removed the stitch—and the rest, since it was just about due anyways—they couldn't keep the giant grins off their faces. The doctor said he'd never seen a patient so pleased by such a painful, non-anesthetized procedure. Jim told him he couldn't even feel it—he was too busy floating on cloud 9.


	15. Chapter 15

"Ok, you good from here?" Jenna asked, still holding the door as Jim cleared it. He was efficient with the walker now; hopefully today would be his last day with it, if his physical therapist cleared him.

"I'm fantastic," he replied with a big grin. He'd been smiling like that ever since the night before last. Jenna had to give him credit for the blissful optimism he maintained, even as they discussed logistics and finances and what their future may entail. It was like they were getting married, minus the actual marriage itself. Jenna's stomach flipped just thinking about it.

"Ok, I'm gonna run over to the diner then and tell Becky. I'll be back in an hour."

Jenna left the door open and quickly walked around the Jim's front. Putting her hands over his on the walker, she leaned in and kissed him gently. She felt his lips spread into a smile under hers and she couldn't help but giggle. Just being able to do that, out in the open, with anybody watching—it felt so stupidly good.

"Good luck. How about we get some lunch after, you and me and Lulu?"

Jenna's features darkened slightly. "Jim, I can't afford a meal out, not if I'm saving for rent."

"My treat. Allow me to take you on at least one date before we move in together."

Jenna paused, biting her lip. "Ok. Sure. What the hell, I've already thrown caution to the wind. Might as well."

She leaned in for one last kiss and then flitted out the door, trying to savor the feeling before facing down Becky. She had a feeling her friend wasn't going to like the idea of her running off into the sunset with her ex-lover.

* * *

Jenna closed the door behind her gently, trying to avoid having the bell ring and announce her arrival.

The diner was nearly empty; some church-group old ladies sat in their typical booth by the furthest window—Jenna knew their pie orders by heart—and an old man sat at the counter, head hunched over a plate of eggs and bacon.

"Well there you are!" Cal boomed as he emerged from the kitchen. "I thought that goddamned maternity leave was taking too long. Your apron is on it's hook in the back, go ahead and wash up and I have a couple pies for you to make." He turned to walk away.

"Uhh., I'm not actually here to work," Jenna said. Cal stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jenna, already seemingly bored with her excuse.

"You what?"

"Is Becky here? I need to talk to her," Jenna's eyes pleaded with Cal. If he went and forced her to tell him before she'd told Dawn or Becky, she'd never hear the end of it.

"She's out back smoking. Don't tell her I told you that though, she doesn't want you knowing she started up again," Cal harrumphed. Jenna thanked him with her eyes as she headed out the door and around the front of the building.

"Becky!" she called around the corner, giving her a chance to hide a cigarette if she had one.

"Jenna?" Becky called back. By the time Jenna rounded the corner, the cigarette had been stomped and partially pushed beneath a dumpster, only a tendril of smoke still rising from the crushed tip. Jenna smiled knowingly at Becky, but she just stuck her nose up, refusing to admit the bad habit, even with the smell of tobacco swirling around them.

"What are you doing here?" Becky asked. "Don't you have an invalid and an infant to take care of?"

"Jim's at physical therapy and Lulu is in the car out front. I had an hour break before I had to pick him up and I wanted to see you. I have something to tell you."

"Well let's go see my godchild then; I want to hold her. I have a feeling I'm going to want to throttle you after what I hear, so you're gonna want me holding a baby."

Jenna smiled half-heartedly as she led Becky to the front. Even now, her stomach twisted at the thought of leaving her best friends behind.

Lulu cooed and gurgled as Jenna removed her from her car seat and handed her off to Becky. Becky inspected her thoroughly as she got her in her arms, as though checking that Lulu still had all her fingers and toes. Apparently satisfied, she began rocking the baby and looked at Jenna expectantly.

"So?" she asked bluntly.

"Well," Jenna began. She paused, unsure what to say. Becky sighed with exasperation.

"Jenna, I am not going to coddle you and play guessing games here. Spit it out."

"Fine!" Jenna exclaimed impatiently. "I'm going with him. We're leaving. Jim and I, I mean."

Becky continued bouncing, acting as though she hadn't heard. Jenna held her breath, waiting for some sort of response. Nothing. Becky continued bouncing and Lulu gurgled a bit, reaching a hand out for Becky's nose. Becky put her pinky finger in Lulu's grasp and the baby clutched at it, giggling.

"Do you love him?" Becky finally asked, cocking an eyebrow and looking up at Jenna, her pinky still firmly entrapped in Lulu's grip.

"I was fighting it so hard because of the timing, but. . ." Jenna faded out. Her heart was pulsing in her chest, filling her with the longing she had for Jim, for ruffling his messy black hair and kissing the sadness out of his eyes and hearing his awkward jokes and watching his clumsy movements. There were no words to give Becky to define the feeling, as premature as it might be.

"How long was your affair with him?" Becky asked. Her voice was still devoid of emotion, leaving Jenna feeling unbalanced and scared. Terror might still be looming.

"Well, it began at my second appointment. So I was about six weeks along, and I didn't end it 'til I was in labor, so nearly nine months."

"Honey, that's not an affair, that's a relationship," Becky crowed.

"Well, I don't know if I would call it that," Jenna shot back, going back in her memory. Was it more than just sex?

She remembered the 'phone appointments' she'd had with him. She'd started with innocent real questions—often ending up with follow-up visits to 'clarify her concerns'—but once he'd given her his home number, they'd started talking all the time. She remembered sitting on the tile floor in her old house with Earl, leaning against the counter and watching a pie bake in the dim light of the oven, cradling the phone beneath her ear and talking to him well into the night. Where had he been for those conversations? She had done such a good job of forgetting Francine's existence, she hadn't realized he must have been home with her on some of those occasions. Would he sit in the kitchen, under that small chandelier, watching the lonely bus stop? Would he sit out in the front yard, staring up the road at interminable, white, upper-class suburbia?

And when he came over that first time; Jenna was so nervous bringing him into her home while Earl was gone on a fishing trip. She'd cleaned for hours ahead of time, and it had all been for nothing because he never took his eyes off of her. She'd taught him to make a pie that day, and then they sat out on the porch in the blazing sun, eating pie and melty ice cream and talking. What had they talked about? They'd promised to avoid anything 'real', trying to keep that illicit magic of their stolen time together, but Jenna remembered telling him about getting trapped with Earl. He'd told her about Francine, too.

About med school, and how at some mentor dinner they'd been sat next to each other. About how their circles of friends overlapped just enough but not too much, how they always conveniently saw each other at social events and were thrust together by their friends who saw their relationship as some sort of ideal. How it didn't take long for them to end up dating, and then their specialty interests always aligned. About how, when you were so deep in med school and internships and rotations it was easy to just never leave that behind; they could always talk about patients and procedures and techniques and fuck-ups. How it became work 24/7, then joining Francine's cushy Connecticut life on vacations. He never told Jenna about his family, but she sensed that there was some trauma there, something he was hiding from or avoiding. Joining Francine's perfect life seemed like the right answer; just upgrading from his own.

"Jenna?" Becky shook Jenna's shoulder and startled her out of her reverie.

"Yeah. I guess it was a relationship," Jenna faltered.

"I just thought you were sleeping with him," Becky soothed.

"I thought it was such a mistake," Jenna whispered. "The whole affair. I felt so ashamed and confused because I was still attracted to him, but I figured it was just my body betraying me. I didn't think it was real, ya know?"

"Oh honey, I do. I just never want you to get hurt," Becky reached out an arm from holding Lulu and pulled Jenna in to her side.

"I don't want to get hurt either. That's why I fought it. So soon after Earl, and with Lulu so young, it's just not the right time. He's everything I've ever wanted, but the timing. . ."

"I read something about that once," Becky murmured into Jenna's hair, rocking her slowly back and forth. "It was something about how you always meet the right person at the wrong time, or the wrong person at the right time, or something like that. I think you can make an exception for Jim though. You can make this your right time."

They stayed like that for a moment, rocking together, both inhaling Lulu's clean smell of baby powder.

"And it doesn't hurt that he has money," Becky joked as she finally let Jenna go. Jenna couldn't help but smile.

"It doesn't hurt. Though I don't think I'll let myself mix finances with him. At least not yet. I need to have some semblance of independence. Especially if I'm going to open a pie shop of my own."

"You're actually going to do that?" Becky smiled widely.

"I am. You weren't wrong when you said I shouldn't depend on a man. I'm not going to put myself in the same spot I was in with Earl. I'll have my own livelihood to hold me up."

"Good for you girl!" Becky patted Jenna on the back. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"He's had offers from a couple of hospitals. He offered to hold out for one in Nashville or Texas if we wanted to stay within driving distance of you guys, but I think it might be best if I wasn't too close to here. It's kind of like a magnet, you know? I'd always feel pulled back."

"Good. Steer clear. Don't let yourself get hauled back to this place. You'll never leave," Becky smiled ruefully. Jenna knew of her past; she'd tried to escape more than once, and ended up back here, childless and in an empty, loveless marriage.

"You could always come with us," Jenna murmured, holding her hands out take Lulu back. They needed to go pick Jim up soon. Becky held Lulu away and opened the car door on her own, insistent on getting the baby settled.

"Keep me in mind. Cal is married to this diner and soon I'll be married to Cal, so my chances of leaving are slim. If I can pry him away in a few years I'll consider it."

"Ok," Jenna said, watching Becky strap Lulu in. She felt her chin wobble and fought it hard, but the idea of not seeing Becky whenever she wanted was really hitting her.

"Oh don't you go crying on me now," Becky crowed as she turned around and saw Jenna's face. "I'll help you get all packed up and started on designing your shop. You ain't seen the last of me," Becky pulled Jenna gruffly into a hug and Jenna squeezed her tightly back.

"We're leaving soon, Becky," Jenna mumbled into her friends oversized bosom.

"You what?" Becky pulled back and held Jenna by the shoulders, looking her in the eye.

"We're going as soon as we can. Hopefully Jim is getting rid of the walker today. As soon as he does we're packing and he's going to take an offer and then we're gonna just. . . go."

"How soon?"

"Hopefully by this time next week."

Becky whistled, letting the air out of her lungs. Jenna thought for just a moment that maybe this would be it—the thing that caused Becky to go off on her, to rage and rant and call Jenna all the names she knew she deserved to be called. But she didn't. Becky opened the car door, gave Lulu a kiss on the forehead, and then closed it gently. She turned to Jenna and did the same to her, kissing her square in the center of her forehead, her breath smelling of cigarette smoke.

"Ok," Jenna murmured, opening the drivers door. "I love you, Becky," she said as she sat and strapped herself in.

"I know," Becky replied, closing her door for her.


	16. Chapter 16

The moment was straight out of a movie—Jim pulling up to the curb in his blue pathfinder, Jenna standing there with a baby on her hip and a suitcase in her hand. Of course, Becky and Cal hovering over one shoulder and Dawn and Ogie over the other kind of detracted from the image—maybe they appeared as the dramatic, overly worried parents?

Jim killed the engine and got out of the car. He was still walking with a definite limp, but as he traversed to Jenna, his smile and energy made it barely noticeable. He plucked Lulu off of Jenna's side and spun her around in the air for a moment, letting out a huff of air as she landed on his hip.

"Be careful, Jim! I don't want you hurting yourself. Or dropping my baby!" Jenna scolded him as she opened the hatch on the pathfinder and settled her suitcase inside.

"Did the truck leave on time?" Jenna asked as she shut the door, trying to remain brusque to put off the good byes.

"Yup. They fit everything in easy—I told you we didn't need the next size up. I dropped the keys off with the realtor as well. It's all taken care of. Only thing left on my list was to get you!" Jim smiled at her and leaned in gently for a quick kiss. Jenna couldn't help the blissful smile that crossed her cheeks as he pulled away. They had managed to do this entire move in under a week, and somehow she still wasn't stressed. How did he do that to her? Life just seemed so easy with him by her side.

Jenna turned away and faced her friends. Time for the hard part. Before she'd said a word or given a single hug, she felt her chin begin to wobble, that awful thickness taking hold in her throat.

Cal was first. He leaned in for a hug and patted her back gruffly a few times before pulling away. "I thought you ought to have this," he held out a cylinder of white fabric—Jenna recognized it as her apron from the diner. "I know it's not much, but you shouldn't forget your roots. We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Cal," Jenna replied, smiling at him and pulling him in for one last hug.

Next was Ogie. He wrapped his arms tightly around Jenna and squeezed with more force than she thought he could fit into his wiry little frame.

"Well Ms. Jenna, it has been a downright pleasure to have you. Thank you for making this one,"—he pointed at Dawn—"give me a chance, and thank you for baking at our wedding, and thank you for bringing lovely little Lulu into our lives. We are immensely grateful to you. Now, I know you said no gifts, but I did get you a little something," he held out a tissue wrapped package.

"Ogie, you shouldn't have!" Jenna scolded him with a smile. She hated getting gifts.

"Ms. Jenna, you won't be disappointed with this, I promise you! It lists all the best historic sights in Philadelphia for you to go visit, including some revolutionary war re-enactments you can watch and send me pictures from, if you'd like," Ogie smiled bashfully and Jenna couldn't help but laugh with him. When he and Dawn had heard that she was going to be moving to Philadelphia—Jim's best offer was from the teaching hospital at the University of Pennsylvania—their faces had lit up, the historical relevance of the place completely captivating them. Jenna half hoped it would help launch them to join her in the next few years—if she could, she would bring them all with her now.

"I'll make sure to check off a few every month Ogie," Jenna smiled at him and gracefully took the tissue-wrapped book. Maybe she could see what all the fuss was about with their costumes and re-enactments and historical docu-dramas.

Jenna felt her stomach sink as Dawn and Becky approached. Without a word, the three of them leaned in for a group hug, holding each other tightly. Jenna felt tears that weren't her own splash on her shirt from her friends. Good to know she wasn't the only one crying. Jenna could hear the awkward shuffling of the men behind them and smiled to herself. She had to admit, it was hard to understand the bond that the three of them had with each other.

It was Dawn who pulled away first, struggling for breath smothered in Jenna's and Becky's chests.

"Ok," she whispered through choked sobs. "We bought our tickets already—we'll be there in ten weeks. Don't you go forgetting us before then!"

"How could I?" Jenna asked.

"She won't," Becky said to Dawn. "Or at least, she better not!" She guffawed and patted Jenna on the back sharply. Jenna winced, but smiled at her friends. Ten weeks, and then they'd be there, and everything would be ok. It was all going to be ok. She'd just miss them. A lot.

They all fussed over getting Lulu into her car seat—while Jenna had specified no gifts for herself, no such rule had been made for Lulu, and they showered her with stuffed toys and books and pajamas and outfits. Lulu adored the attention, smiling and giggling and gripping any fingers that came in range. Jenna smiled too from the front seat, watching her friends shower her baby girl with attention and love. The thought of raising her baby without them still hurt her heart.

As she and Jim pulled away, Jenna frantically wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. She leaned out the window and waved at them, standing there on the curb in front of Dawn and Ogie's house, waving back at her. As Jim turned the corner, Jenna vaguely saw a form standing on the curb, ragged and dirty, holding a bottle in one hand and impassively watching them pass. Earl. Jenna looked at him with wide eyes, taking in his wretched face, covered in a scruffy beard. Immediately she sobered, tears forgotten.

Sure, it was terrifying to leave. Facing the unknown and without her friends by her side, that hurt. But Jenna had no doubts about the future she was signing up for with Jim. She wouldn't be alone or isolated or abused, no matter what happened in Philly. That itself was enough for her to know that she was making the right decision. And her baby—her precious little Lulu—would be safe and loved, no matter what. Jim made her feel safe. And that was nice.

"I got you a gift too," Jim said quietly. "I know you said not to, but I couldn't help it, and I haven't purchased it yet, so you can still say no if you decide it's not right for you, or anything like that,"

Jenna choked out a laugh, shaken from her thoughts and looking around the car. "Ok, where is it?" she asked.

"Open the glove box," Jim pointed, keeping his eyes on the road.

Jenna complied, reaching in and pulling out the only thing it could be: a manila envelope with a green bow stuck on the front.

"Sorry, it didn't really lend itself to wrapping," Jim smiled self-consciously. "Go ahead and open it though, tell me what you think."

Jenna undid the little metal piece holding the envelope closed. Inside was a sheaf of papers—mostly photos. Jenna shuffled through them, not fully comprehending at first. The first was of an empty storefront, seemingly abandoned. The place where the previous businesses sign had been was discolored. Then more photos of the inside; a big concrete industrial space, big bay windows at the front, concrete walls delineating a kitchen space from the storefront.

"I don't understand," Jenna murmured, flipping through the pictures. It was beginning to dawn on her, but she couldn't let herself believe it.

"It's right on Independence Mall, down in historic Philly, close to the house. Right by all the touristy places, so you can get a lot of business just from foot traffic. There's also a daycare literally right across the street—once business picks up and Lulu gets older, I checked it out and it's got fantastic ratings, if that's where you wanted her to go. They do pre-K too, so it would be a nice continuity for her. And I know, this is me presuming a lot, so I haven't paid or committed or anything, but I was thinking what better gift than to get you started? My freshmen year roommate became a retail designer, and I reached out and he offered me a nice friends and family discount if you wanted to use him to help design the space. His name is Mark and he's this sweet guy, him and his husband live in West Philly, so they're close to the shop, and he does business down there all the time. It's a prime location; the previous owner was embezzling funds or something and that's the only reason it's available. I managed to put a little hold on it so you could get a chance to look before committing, if you'd like. I feel like I'm rambling now and you haven't said anything so I'm going to stop."

Jim kept glancing between Jenna and the road as she continued silently flipping through the pages. It had always just been a dream. Some sort of wish to keep her mind occupied while sweating in the confined diner kitchen. So many nights she'd spent writing up recipes and doodling logos. It had all been innocent fun—designed to busy her mind, distract her from the painful realities of life. It hadn't ever even seemed like a possibility. And here it was, splayed on her lap, a guarantee if she wanted to reach out and take it. It seemed like too much. She continued flipping through the photos, over and over again, until a fat teardrop splashed on the laminated page.

"Jim," she whispered.

"Jenna?" he whispered back, curious. What would she say? What could she say?

"I can't—" she began.

"Shh. Nonsense. It's a gift—nothing more. The first year. It's a rental, obviously. That way, if you get a loan, you just need to ask for business capital, not rent money as well. It's just helping. My gift to you, for allowing me to be a part of your life. And Lulu's. Please take it."

"I just—" Jenna began and then choked off, tears clouding her vision. The kindness of it all was just too much.

They drove like that for a while, Jim keeping his eyes on the road, letting Jenna have her moment. At some point, she managed a guttural "Thank you," and that was all the confirmation Jim needed. He continued driving in silence, a smile wide across his face, heading towards their future.

* * *

 **Hi everybody! Thank you so much to those of you who followed this story and favorited and reviewed; this one was hard for me to write, and your feedback really helped me see it through.**

 **Writing for adults (like real grown up adults with children and jobs and baggage) has been really, really hard for me. I would not yet consider myself one of those so-called 'grown-ups', so writing them didn't come as fluidly to me as teens did in the other fic I have uploaded here. I want to thank those of you (again) who stayed with me through some sketchy character development and overly-angsty life crises. I appreciate you massively. There's one last chapter/epilogue coming for you guys from Jenna and Jim, then I'll be moving on to my next ventures: a sequel to the Dear Evan Hansen fic I have uploaded here, and a story that's been brewing in my mind after I saw Mean Girls in previews on Broadway.**

 **One last thank you to all the Broadway fans out there that have created a fanfiction community here online. I can think of no better way to indulge some of our curiosities and fantasies about our favorite shows, and I'm forever grateful to those of you who read, write, or give feedback on some of the awesome art that makes it's way to this corner of the internet. May we never stop creating!**

 **Signing off- AlyssssaB**


	17. Epilogue

"Ok, I have that C-section at 2pm, but once that's done I can head home early if you wanted me to join you three for dinner. If not, that's fine too, I know you might need some girl time and I have lots of paperwork at the office I need to get through anyways, it's really no issue—"

"You're rambling, Jim," Jenna smiled at her fiancé as he grinned knowingly. He was nervous about Becky and Dawn visiting, Jenna could tell. Probably because of the giant rock on her left ring finger, which she hadn't told Becky and Dawn about yet. They'd been so busy training new waitresses at the diner and getting Becky all prepared for her wedding—which was in five weeks, and which Jenna was going to fly down for—that she hadn't wanted to throw such big news at them.

"I'm picking them up in an hour and we'll have the whole day together to get our catching up done—we'd love you to join us for dinner. I'll let you know if they have pitchforks ready, but I don't think they will after hearing the proposal story."

"Ok. If you're sure. I have to run now," Jim poured the rest of his latte into a travel thermos and screwed the top on. He kissed Lulu on the top of her head—she had begun to sit independently just a few weeks ago, and he had arrived home not much later with a brand new high chair that had now become Lulu's throne in the kitchen. Before picking up his briefcase, Jim whirled Jenna around from her position washing dishes at the sink and planted a fat kiss on her. She came away gasping for breath and giggling like a child—Jim never failed to make her feel like an overly romanced teenager. She loved it.

"Love you!" he called before heading out the door to the busy Philly street. Their townhouse was perfectly situated—in the historic section of town, but a few blocks away from the tourist madness. They were right on a beautiful green park, the school district was truly excellent, and they had somehow snagged a four bedroom place—they hadn't spoken about having more kids yet, but Jenna figured that the purchase of the house represented an unspoken promise between them that it would happen, somewhere down the line.

It was strange for her to think of that—of actually wanting kids. It felt so long ago when she had taken the pregnancy test in the diner, with Dawn and Becky by her side, holding her hands. She could still remember how her stomach sank when it came back positive, how she had hoped against hope for that to not be true.

Now, looking at her little girl, sitting in her high chair mashing the remains of some bright orange baby food around her face, Jenna wanted more. A lot more. At least two. She wanted Lulu to have a little sister or brother to play with, and she wanted warm family days and school projects and homework. She wanted Jim to have a whole nest of kids. She wanted to raise them and watch them grow and maybe go to college or become a doctor like their dad—just thinking about it made her heart swell with pride.

With the last mug washed and rinsed, Jenna dried her hands and plucked Lulu from her throne.

"Ok girly, wanna go see Aunty Dawn and Aunty Becky? Let's get you cleaned up first." She bounced her baby on her hip as she did some last minute tidying, squaring up the papers spread across the kitchen table—the adoption paperwork for Lulu. Yet another piece of news she'd have to give Dawn and Becky: Jim had started the paperwork last week. By the time they were married, Lulu would hopefully be his officially. Jenna hummed a little song as she put the papers in order for safe keeping.

The upstairs of the house was still sparsely furnished and mostly empty. One of the three upstairs bedrooms had become Lulu's nursery, painted bright yellow and catching morning sunlight. In another they had put a queen-sized bed for guests—that's where Dawn and Becky would be sleeping. The third bedroom had some extra boxes in it that Jim was finishing sorting through, but otherwise remained empty. Jenna's stomach fluttered looking at it—she knew it would become the next nursery, once she and Jim had time for that conversation. And had gotten their wedding over with.

* * *

Jenna stood in the baggage claim, peering over heads to try and see Becky's massive-bosom or Dawns' signature high-pony. Their flight had landed, and Jenna had found the correct baggage claim easily, but still no sight of them.

A tap on her shoulder spun Jenna around, and she did a double take.

"Dawn!' she shrieked. Dawn stood there in front of her, her stomach as round as a balloon, massively pregnant. Becky stood there beside her, grinning with pleasure at the surprise.

"Oh my god! How pregnant are you?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Jenna could hear the shrillness of her voice but couldn't help it.

"Maybe for the same reason you didn't tell us about this?" Becky's hand shot out and grabbed Jenna's left hand, holding up her massive engagement ring. Jenna blushed.

"Clearly, we have a lot of catch-up to do," Dawn leaned in and hugged Jenna. "Now will you help me get my bag? I feel like I'm hauling around enough luggage as it is." She put a hand on her lower back, bending back to try and alleviate the strain form her massive belly.

"You can get my bag too," Becky crowed. "I'll take Miss Lulu here right off your hands."

Jenna found herself hauling two very large suitcases through the airport, Dawn on one side and Becky on the other, holding Lulu.

"Dawn, are you ok to fly? You look about ready to pop. Why didn't you tell me when I left? And how were you not showing?" Jenna had so many questions she thought her head might burst.

"I'm fine to fly. I'm only 22 weeks along, believe it or not. I was showing a bit when we sent you off, but I could hide it pretty easily if I didn't wear anything tight. I didn't tell anybody—only Ogie and I knew. The doctor said I was at serious risk for a miscarriage because of how small I am and my family's history—we've always had hard pregnancies. The first trimester was a bit scary, not going to lie to you. It doesn't help that it's twins either—that's why I'm so huge."

"You're having twins?!" Jenna shrieked again.

"Yup!' Dawn rolled her eyes, rubbing her belly affectionately. "Little boys. Troublemakers, I can already tell."

"I am just so happy for you," Jenna said. She was grinning from ear to ear, and that special warm glow was in her tummy that only happened when it felt like her joy might overwhelm her.

"Now, don't you go putting off explaining this to us!" Dawn pointed at Jenna's hand. The engagement ring was obscene, a beautiful white-gold pattern with a massive diamond smacked on top. Jenna had tried multiple times to refuse it and ask for something smaller, but Jim wouldn't hear it.

"Well, Jim proposed. As you can probably tell." Jenna blushed.

"And clearly, you said yes," Becky replied sarcastically.

"I did, I did. Just wait 'til I tell you the story," Jenna sighed.

"Well why don't you just tell us now?" Becky asked.

"it's location dependent. I promise, it will be worth the wait."

"How many carats is this monstrosity?" Becky snatched at the ring again, unable to keep her hands off it.

"Too many, I said. But he won't have it. Says I deserve the bling. I just worry that I'll lose it, ya know? I never had one with Earl, so I never had to worry. Now with this. . ." Jenna peered at the ring on her hand clutching the steering wheel. She had had it fitted twice so it was snug on her finger. She found herself rubbing her thumb over it gently every few minutes, reassuring herself of its presence.

The drive back to the city was filled with life updates. Cal was training a new fleet of waitresses and making the diner a 24-hour place to hit the trucker population a little stronger. He had agreed to a little wedding ceremony in the diner for Becky, because she wanted a party to celebrate. They planned on saving money like nobody's business and then boarding a cruise ship and never getting off again.

Dawn and Ogie were checking out the schools back home with dismay, and Ogie had submitted a transfer request with his company and applied at the IRS—if those went through, they would look to head up to Pennsylvania. The schools were better, Ogie could make more in the same job category, and their kids could grow up alongside Jenna's. Not to mention, the historical richness of the area was a draw. Jenna knew they had been drooling over the picture she had sent back home, and those were just of her neighborhood—she hadn't had the courage to head out to a reenactment yet.

It was a joyful car-ride, filled with gossip and chatter and hope that this separation they were living through now was only temporary. When they pulled into the townhouse garage, Dawn and Becky's jaws dropped.

"How much was this place?" Becky asked, looking around as they walked in the door, checking out the home-gym downstairs—which right now contained nothing but extra boxes from the move and a Bow flex machine that Jim hadn't fully constructed yet, but swore up and down he was going to use religiously once he did.

"Jim won't tell me. He bought it and I've tried to pay rent but he refuses to take my money. He says the sooner we can blend our finances, the better. And he claims he would have bought it anyways, even if I wasn't in the picture. I've given up fighting him on it. He likes to spoil me," Jenna blushed with embarrassment, looking at her friends who came from so much less.

"It ain't a bad thing, getting spoiled like this," Becky replied as she headed up the stairs to the main floor. She wolf-whistled as she took in the kitchen, admiring the appliances and wood-work and wide open space, perfect for a family. Jenna saw it through her friend's eyes and had to admit, it was like a dream come true. Her own dream.

"Ok, I'm still waiting on this proposal story!" Becky prodded as Jenna helped them get their bags into the guest room.

"It's a little walk away. Are you good to walk, Dawn?"

"Am I ever! Just let me get my camera—Ogie will kill me if I don't send pictures." Dawn rifled through her bag until she had found what she needed, and then the trio set out, Lulu in a big stroller—this one purchased with Jenna's own money, a treat for herself and an investment in long walks and more children.

First, Jenna showed them the park behind her house. They had kind of seen it as they pulled into the garage at the basement level, but Jenna walked them through, opening the wrought iron gate to the park with an ancient looking key.

"They lock their parks up?" Becky asked skeptically.

"No," Jenna laughed, taking in her friends disbelieving look. "Some are private, like this one. You have to live in the neighborhood or belong to the historical society to have a key. It keeps it safe—there are plenty of parks in the area that are public, and we go to those too. This one just gets to act as our backyard, so I know Lulu has a safe place to play when she's older."

They meandered through the park—it had beautiful scenery, and Dawn snapped pictures left and right as they walked.

Eventually they arrived at the other side of the park and Jenna opened another gate, letting them out onto a busy street. Dawn squealed as she recognized landmarks and locations from the war, and Jenna and Becky could only indulge her as she photographed and grabbed tour brochures and texted Ogie frantically. Sometimes they forgot how zany their friend was, but this was a prime reminder.

"And here we are!" Jenna stopped in the sidewalk. Becky and Dawn looked around for a moment, slightly confused. Then they realized—right there in front of them was a beautiful red and white sign, reading in a curly script: _Lulu's_.

"Oh honey," Becky whispered, disbelieving.

"Here, come inside," Jenna unlocked the front door with a key. It wasn't quite finished yet, that was clear. The tile floor was beautiful, but little metal café tables hadn't been assembled yet, and the white shelves against the walls weren't completely built either. The big glass case still had Styrofoam wrapped around it, and boxes were scattered on the counter. The walls were already painted—a vivid cyan color, with white pinstripes. It felt like going back south, like being home.

"Jenna, is this what I think it is?" Becky asked incredulously. Dawn was walking around, sweeping her fingers over various items as though needing to touch them to believe they were real.

"It is. He surprised me with it—he had applied for the rental and showed me the space a few days after we got here."

"And that's when. . ." Becky prompted, trailing off.

"Yup. He got down on one knee in this empty concrete storefront and asked me to bake him pies until we both died, either of old age or diabetes, he said he didn't really care which."

"Well if that isn't the most romantic thing. . ." Becky blustered, looking around.

"Wow. This is just. . . wow."

"We're a few weeks out from opening. Still have to finish the business licensing and kitchen inspection and construction on the storefront. I found a manager—this young lady named Marion, a very smart gal who just finished a business internship in restaurant management. She has a degree and everything, and she said she has big plans for my pies—she had to taste one first, of course." Jenna laughed. "I'm going back to school as well. It's this spouses program at U Penn—I don't know if I've got the brain to graduate, but I'm going to take some business classes, so I can know what's going on with my own business."

"Why Jenna. Just look at yourself!" Becky eyed her friend up and down, taking in the woman in front of her. "I barely even recognize you now."

"I'm still me," Jenna murmured back, a sudden insecurity in her heart. Had she changed too much for her friends?

"No girl, you're better," Becky reassured. "You always were a cut above. You just needed somebody to show you that. I'm so glad that he has."

Jenna let out a gust of air—she had been unaware she had been holding her breath.

"Let me text Jim that. He's scared you two are going to hate him for snatching me away and marrying me off."

"Honey, I couldn't be prouder if I wanted to," Becky retorted.

"Good," Jenna pulled out her phone to text Jim. "But, I want you two to know—I haven't hired any cooks yet, and even after I do, you both will always have a job waiting for you here. You know that, right? Come bake pies—we're going to start doing farmer's markets too, and you can come and help with that. My heart is in this business, and you're in my heart, and you're a part of this, no matter what."

Dawn meandered over to the window, looking out across the street. The fenced courtyard there had a wonderful playground in it, and children were dashing across it, yelling and playing at midmorning recess.

"That's where Lulu will be going, once she's old enough and this place opens. Jim thought of that before renting this place. Said it was one of the biggest factors in his choice."

"Mine could go there too," Dawn whispered, her hand rested on her massive stomach.

"They could. It would be wonderful. You and Ogie can stay with us too, while you get your bearings here and find a place. We have two extra rooms at the moment, though I don't know how long that will be for," Jenna placed her hand on her stomach absent-mindedly as she spoke. Dawn caught the motion and looked at Jenna with wide eyes.

"Are you. . .?" she glanced at Jenna's stomach pointedly.

"Oh my! No, not right now," Jenna chuckled, dropping her hand. "Though, we're planning on it. We want to wait until we're a bit more settled, and Lulu's a bit older. We're thinking once she has her first birthday, we'll start trying. We want to get married first too—I ain't getting any younger!"

"Jenna, look at your life," Dawn whispered, turning and taking in the pie shop around them.

"I know," Jenna replied, pulling her friend into a hug at her side. "I know."


End file.
